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10X  14X  18X  22X 


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e 

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s  du 
lodifior 
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conformity  avec  lea  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fllmage. 

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dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
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plat,  salon  Ie  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exempialres 
originaux  sont  fllmte  en  commenpant  par  la 
premlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impreeslon  ou  d'lllustratlon  et  en  terminant  par 
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empreinte. 

Un  dee  symboles  sulvants  apparaftra  sur  la 
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cas:  Ie  symbols  — ►  signlfie  "A  SUIVRE",  Ie 
symbole  V  signlfie  "FIN". 

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fllmte  i  dee  taux  de  rMuction  dIffArents. 
Lorsque  Ie  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
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de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  drolte, 
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'But  no  answer  came  from  the  graves  of  the  dead, 
nor  the  gloomier  grave  of  the  living. ' ' 


} 


■i»  ■    ^ 


*      i     IV  TT 


1*1 


«    • 


THE 


"EVANGELINE"  BOOK 


READERS  AND  STUDENTS  OF  "EVANGELINE' 


Ji 


F.  M.  MUHLIG. 


of  the  dead, 
ing." 


^^ 


Chicago: 
A.  FIvANAGAN,   PUBI,ISHBR. 


/<ff^ 


-  1 


'U 


ad")!)? 


Copyrighted  1898 

BY 
A.  FLANAGAN. 


TWDCOnCS  RECEIVED* 


vf.      J 


w 


bv 


i^'^ 


9* 


CONTENTS. 

Introductory 

CHAPTER  I. 

POBT  AND  POBTRY 7 

CHAPTER  n. 

DiSCOVKRY  AND  SETTLEMENT JQ 

CHAPTER  in. 
Sbtti,bmbnts  and  Disturbances 17 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Exhb ■-....        23 

,   "CHAPT^R*^.  '  •  ■ 

The  Acadian  Land  -       •       .       .       ..       .       .       .28 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Successors     -  ^^''-      -      t 35 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Successors.— Continued ^       -41 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Acadians  and  Acadian  Reucs        •       .       .       .       .        49 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Indians      - 52 

Notes  and  References     •      -       •      •.      .      ..        57 

EVANGBUNE,  the  PoBM  .         ..         .-.  .         .       (H 


yr 


INTRODUCTORY. 

In  presenting  this  little  book,  the  author  believes  that  he  is 
not  encroaching  on  a  field  already  well  stocked  with  literature. 
He  knows  of  no  book  written  for  the  same  purpose  as  this 
little  volume.  It  is  intended  as  a  helper  to  the  reader  of 
"Evangeline,"  and  to  anyone  desirous  of  learning  more  of 
Acadia  and  its  story  than  the  ordinary  text  book  of  the  poem 
can  furnish.  A  complete  history  of  Nova  Scotia  is  not 
attempted.  Only  the  thread  of  its  earlier  history  is  given  in 
order  to  trace  its  most  important  events  down  to  the  Exile  and 
the  "occupation."  Longfellow's  line  "Dwells  another  race 
with  other  customs  and  language,"  is  very  suggestive,  and 
forms  the  "text"  for  the  sixth  and  seventh  chapters.  Is  that 
"other  race"  the  people  of  Nova  Scotia  as  they  are  today? 
We  think  not;  and  we  believe  that  the  older  generation,  now 
fast  passing  away,  will  agree  with  us.  The  people  of  today 
have  the  sturdy  character,  the  honesty  and  integrity  of  their 
fnreffither»»;  but  when  we  add  to  these  the  intercourse  with  the 
outside  world,  rapid  transit,  the  army  of  modern  inventions, 
and  the  growing  advantages  of  education  and  government,  we 
have  a  people  difiPering  from  their  ancestors  in  many  respects. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  give  a  biographical  sketch  of 
Longfellow;  that  can  be  found  in  any  volume  on  American 
Literature. 

Special  attention  is  given  to  the  Cornwallis  Valley,  which 
was  the  valley  of  the  Acadians  and  the  scene  of  the  poem. 

Indebtedness  to  Willoughby's  "Land  of  the  Mayflower," 
Campbell's  "School  History  of  Nova  Scotia,"  Houghton, 
Mifflin  &  Go's  "American  Poems"  and  F.  H.  Eaton's  article 
on  "Bay  of  Fundy  Tides  and  Marshes,"  is  hereby  gratefully 
acknowledged  by 

Thb  Author. 


1 


CHAPTER  I. 
Poet  and  Poetry. 

To  the  end  of  time  the  early  history  of  America  will  be 
read  with  interest ;  not  only  on  account  of  the  deeds  of  bravery, 
fortitude,  endurance  and  heroism  ;  not  only  for  the  great  enter- 
prises that  with  such  small  beginnings  resulted  in  nations ; 
not  only  for  those  principles  involved  that  underlie  the  very 
existence  of  those  nations ;  but  also  for  the  many  true  tales  of 
jrjy  and  sorrow,  romance  and  tragedy,  success  aad  failure,  hap- 
piness and  despair,  life  and  death,  fortune  and  misfortune,  that 
are  woven  into  it  and  therefore  inseparable  from  it.  Many  of 
these  tales  are  lost  to  us  or  are  passed  by  historians  with  but  a 
word  of  mention. 

Here  and  there  one  of  these  incidents  is  brought  to  light  by 
the  mind  and  pen  of  historian  or  poet,  a  Parkman  or  a  Longfel- 
low. Had  the  poem  of  Evangeline  never  been  written ,  how  little 
would  we  know  or  learn  of  the  story  of  the  Acadian  people. 
What  hours  we  use  with  pleasure  and  profit  in  reading  and 
studying  that  ever  interesting  poem.  Why  do  we  prefer  the 
poem  rather  than  the  brief  ac90unt  given  in  our  histories? 
Because  the  writer  was  a  poet,  and  poets  write  poetry.  Rhyme 
is  not  poetry.  Harmonious  verse  is  not  poetry.  Coleridge 
says  "Poetry  is  the  art  of  reproducing  in  words  external 
nature  and  human  thoughts  and  affections."  The  true  poet 
finds  sweet  music  and  pathos  in  common  things,  as  the  ticking 
of  a  clock  or  the  flight  of  a  waterfowl.  Poetry  results  from  a 
just  observation  of  human  life — its  hopes,  affections,  aspira- 
tions and  ideals.  The  last  is  probably  the  most  important, 
for  the  poet    deals  in  the  ideal  more  than   the  real.     Our 

(7) 


,;•;«£- 


■,.■  r 


•  SVANGBI.INB. 

dictionary  tells  us  that  an  idcnl  is  a  conception  proposed  by  the 
mind  for  imitation,  realization  or  attainment;  a  standard  or 
model  of  perfection  or  duty.  It  is  to  be  attained  by  selecting 
and  assembling  in  one  whole  the  beauties  and  perfections  which 
are  usually  seen  in  different  individuals,  excluding  everything 
defective  or  unseemly,  so  as  to  form  a  type  or  model.  Long- 
fellow wrote  "The  Old  Clock  on  the  Stairs."  The  old  clock 
which  he  had  in  mind  stood  in  "the  old-fashioned  country 
seat,"  which  was  the  old  Craigee  House  in  Cambridge,  once 
used  by  Washington  as  his  headquarters.  Our  highest  and 
best  ideal  is  Heaven.  We  read  these  words  in  the  ninth  stanza 
of  the  poem  mentioned  : 

"Never  here,  forever  there. 
Where  all  parting,  pain  and  care. 
And  death  and  time  shall  disappear 
Forever  there,  but  never  here." 

Can  we  form  a  higher  or  nobler  ideal  than  that  contained  in 
the  above?  In  "The  Bridge "  there  is  an  ideal  which  can  be 
readily  found. 

"The  ni<x>n  rose  over  the  city  "  of  Boston, 

"  Behind  the  dark  church  tower."  , 

And  that  dark  church  tower  was  on  the  old  North  Church,  the 
tower  Paul  Revere  watched  so  eagerly  on  that  memorable 
night  of  the  18th  of  April,  1775.  In  "  Paul  Revere  "  we  find 
a  grand  and  heroic  ideal.  Let  us  look  for  these  ideals  as  we 
read.  We  will  find  them  well  worth  the  search.  There  are 
ideals  in  the  poem  of  Evangeline.  Have  we  found  them? 
Everyone,  young  or  old,  who  has  any  wish  for  advancement, 
any  ambition,  any  desire  for  something  better  than  that  now 
possessed  by  him,  has  an  ideal.  It  may  be  crude  and  we  may 
not  be  aware  of  its  existence,  but  it  is  with  us  at  all  times 
unless  it  be  realized.  We  know  that  it  is  what  we  strive  to 
gain  and  not  what  we  have. 


Whj 
pure 
seek 


It 
by  K 
story 
ofth 
betw 
shou 
decis 
Perh 
Tom 

L 
ized 
amor 

It. 
tives 
they 
his  U 
selecl 

N 
was  ( 
"Art 


on  proposed  by  the 
nt;  a  standard  or 
:aincd  by  selecting 
d  perfections  which 
eluding  everything 

or  model.  Long- 
s."  The  old  clock 
-fashioned  country 
n  Cambridge,  once 

Our  highest  and 
in  the  ninth  stanza 


ear 

that  contained  in 
ideal  which  can  be 

ioston, 

North  Church,  the 
1  that  memorable 
il  Revere"  we  find 
these  ideals  as  we 
learch.    There  are 

we  found  them? 
I  for  advancement, 
Iter  than  that  now 
crude  and  we  may 
th  us  at  all  times 

what  we  strive  to 


KVANOKLINK.  9 

"  For  two  ideals  I  itrove  with  eager  quest. 
The  first  I  lo»t,— iiiul  why  ? 
'Twas  realized.     The  ather,  unpoMcswd, 
Stays  witli  tiie  till  I  die." 

Why  should  we  not  strive  for  something  higher,  better  and 
purer?  Many  strive  for  riches.  If  we  choose  this  ideal,  let  us 
seek  the  true  riches,  for 

"  The  riclu.'S  of  the  comuion wealth 
Arc  free,  strong  minds  and  hearts  of  health. 
And  more  to  her  than  gold  or  gain 
The  cunning  hand  and  cultured  brain." 

It  is  said  that  the  story  of  Evangeline  was  told  to  Longfellow 
by  Hawthorne,  who  at  one  time  contemplated  writing  a  prose 
story  based  on  the  Uxile,  It  is  further  stated  that  the  heroine 
of  the  original  story  was  named  Gabrielle.  After  a  consultation 
between  these  two  authors  it  was  decided  that  Longfellow 
should  make  it  the  theme  of  a  poem.  We  do  not  regret  the 
decision.  The  poem  has  been  translated  into  many  languages. 
Perhaps  in  this  respect  it  stands  next  to  the  Bible  and  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin. 

Longfellow  and  his  works  are  known  through  all  the  civil- 
ized world.  He  was  given  a  place  in  Westminster  Abbey 
among  the  greatest  men  of  the  English-speaking  people. 

Many  years  ago  at  a  social  gathering  in  Italy,  representa- 
tives of  six  different  nations  met.  During  their  conversativ,n 
they  agreed  that  each  should  select  and  recite  a  quotation  from 
his  favorite  author.  They  did  so,  and  strange  to  relate,  every 
selection  given  was  from  Longfellow. 

Not  long  ago  a  Technological  Institute  costing  over  $400,000 
was  erected  in  England.  On  its  lintel  are  carved  thesQ  words: 
"Art  is  long  and  time  is  fleeting." 


CHAPTER  II. 
Discovery  and  Settlement. 

The  history  of  North  America  before  the  coming  of  the 
white  man  will  ever  be  comparatively  unknown  to  us.  The 
beauties  of  mountain,  valley,  forest  and  shore  were  seen  only 
by  wild  men  and  wild  beasts.  No  human  voice  was  heard  save 
that  of  the  barbarian  as  he  met  his  foe  in  a  death  grapple,  or 
chanted  his  weird  songs  of  war,  hunting  or  superstitious  rites. 
But  the  change  came.  A.cross  the  ocean  sailed  the  little 
vessels  of  the  Norsemen,  the  Genoese  and  the  English,  followed 
closely  by  the  French.  They  brought  with  them  the  civiliza- 
tion of  the  old  world  and  sowed  its  seed  on  new  ground.  The 
seed  thrived  in  this  new  soil  even  better  than  in  the  old,  and 
from  that  day  to  the  present  a  conflict  has  heen  waged  steadily 
here  between  civilization  and  barbarism,  between  freedom  and 
oppression,  between  liberty  and  slavery.  The  results  have 
been  tremendous  for  the  good  of  mankind ;  but  while  the  plan 
was  divine  the  instruments  were  but  human,  and  consequently 
we  find  here  and  there  blots  upon  the  record. 

Previous  to  the  year  1000,  the  hardy  Norsemen  had  seen 
the  shores  of  North  America  and  perhaps  made  temporary 
settlements.  In  1492  came  Columbus,  a  native  of  Genoa,  under 
Spanish  patronage.  His  was  accepted  as  the  real  discovery,  as 
it  was  the  first  to  be  followed  by  permanent  settlement.  He 
was  soon  followed  by  others,  and  among  the  first  of  these  was 
Americus  Vespucius,  who  received  the  honor  of  having  the 
country  named  for  him.  In  justice  it  should  have  been  called 
Columbia.  In  1497  the  Cabots  sailed  from  England  with  a 
commission  from  Henry  VII,  three-hundred  men,  and  a  fleet 
of  five  ships  and  two  caravels.     They  discovered  lands  to  the 

(10)   . 


'4 


ENT. 

the  coming  of  the 
known  to  us.  The 
lore  were  seen  only 
voice  was  heard  save 
1  a  death  grapple,  or 
»r  superstitious  rites, 
an  sailed  the  little 
he  English,  followed 
h  them  the  civiliza- 
n  new  ground.  The 
:han  in  the  old,  and 
heen  waged  steadily 
letween  freedom  and 
The  results  have 
;  but  while  the  plan 
in,  and  consequently 
rd. 

Norsemen  had  seen 
aps  made  temporary 
itive  of  Genoa,  under 
;he  real  discovery,  as 
ent  settlement.  He 
he  first  of  these  was 
lonor  of  having  the 
aid  have  been  called 
om  England  with  a 
red  men,  and  a  fleet 
covered  lands  to  the 


12 


EVANGELINB. 


westward,  which  from  their  rude  maps  are  supposed  to  have 
been  Nova  Scotia,  Cape  Breton  Island  and  Newfoundland. 
They  then  sailed  farther  to  the  west  and  reached  the  mainland. 
They  sailed  again  and  northward  to  67°  30',  then  south  as  far 
as  Florida.  They  then  returned  to  England  on  account  of 
scarcity  of  provisions  and  mutiny  among  the  crews. 

For  many  years  the  English  made  no  attempt  to  follow  up 
the  discoveries  of  the  Cabots  by  actual  settlements.  Under 
Queen  Elizabeth  enterprise  was  awakened.  With  a  patent  for 
"discovering,  occupying  and  peopling  heathen  and  barbarous 
countries,"  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert  sailed  with  an  expedition 
from  England  in  1 583.  After  a  voyage  of  one  month  he  arrived 
at  Newfoundland,  which  he  took  formal  possession  of.  After 
remaining  there  for  some  time  he  decided  to  go  to  Sable  Island 
and  re-stock  his  larder  before  taking  his  long  voyage  home- 
ward. Captain  Hays  of  the  sole  surviving  vessel  wrote  as  fol- 
lows: '  'Sable  lieth  to  the  seaward  of  Cape  Breton,  about  45°, 
whither  we  were  determined  to  go  upon  intelligence  we  had  of  a 
Portingall  during  our  abode  in  St.  John's,  who  was  also  himself 
present  when  the  Portingalls,  about  thirty  years  past,  did  put 
into  the  same  island  both  neat  and  swine  to  breed,  which  were 
since  exceedingly  multiplied."  In  a  dense  mist  and  rain,  with 
a  high  wind,  they  neared  this  bleak  land,  by  later  mariners 
named  "The  graveyard  of  the  North  Atlantic,"  on  account  of 
the  great  number  of  wrecks  on  its  shoals  and  sand  bars.  Here 
Gilbert  lost  one  vessel  and  one-hundred  men  by  shipwreck. 
Escaping  from  the  dangers  of  Sable  Island,  he  encountered  a 
fearful  gale  on  the  Grand  Banks,  and  but  one  vessel  survived  to 
tell  to  England  that  the  heroic  Admiral  hailed  them  during  the 
storm,  saying  that  "Heaven  was  as  near  by  sesi  as  by  land," 
and  soon  after,  standing  by  the  helm,  sorely  wounded  in  his 
foot,  and  Bible  in  hand,  went  down  beneath  the  waves.  [Sec 
note  at  end  of  this  chapter.] 


In 
ed  a  \ 
died  £ 
posse: 
of  Sir 
found 
of  its 

In 
early 
purpo 
Verra 
nent  f 
Fear  1 
river ! 
and  E 
plored 
Franc 
reach 
nizatit 
swine 
1538  t 
the  ne 
that  it 
prepat 
he  left 
horses 
ponies 
quis  i 
Frano 
Canad 
gions. 
as  col 
Island 


'""UIWWSSII!, 


5WB»»  ^,fimjmnmtimm«iamim> ' » 


'ti-^Siife, 


supposed  to  have 
tid  Newfoundland, 
ched  the  mainland. 
,  then  south  as  far 
and  on  account  of 
2  crews. 

tempt  to  follow  up 
ettlements.     Under 

With  a  patent  for 
hen  and  barbarous 
tvith  an  expedition 
le  month  he  arrived 
issession  of.    After 

go  to  Sable  Island 
long  voyage  home- 
vessel  wrote  as  fol- 
Breton,  about  45°, 
illigence  we  had  of  a 
ho  was  also  himself 
years  past,  did  put 
>  breed,  which  were 
mist  and  rain,  with 

by  later  mariners 
tic,"  on  account  of 
d  sand  bars.  Here 
nen  by  shipwreck, 
d,  he  encountered  a 
,e  vessel  survived  to 
ed  them  during  the 
>y  sea  as  by  land," 
;ly  wounded  in  his 
;h  the  waves.     [Sec 


EVANGELINE. 


13 


In  1607  Sir  John  Gilbert,  brother  of  Sir  Humphrey,  plant- 
ed a  weak  colony  within  what  is  now  the  state  of  Maine.  He 
died  soon  after,  and  the  colony  was  broken  up.  The  formal 
possession  taken  by  Sir  Humphrey  and  the  actual  settlement 
of  Sir  John,  added  to  the  discoveries  of  the  Cabots,  formed  the 
foundation  of  the  claim  of  the  crown  of  England  to  the  whole 
of  its  possessions  in  North  America. 

In  the  meantime  the  French  had  been  active.  At  a  very 
early  period  adventurers  had  visited  North  America  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  possession  of  it  for  the  crown  of  France. 
Verrazani,  in  1524,  sailed  along  the  eastern  coast  of  the  conti- 
nent from  a  point  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  south  of  Cape 
Fear  to  New  England.  In  1534  Cartier  explored  the  gulf  and 
river  St.  Lawrence.  Cape  Breton  was  known  to  both  French 
and  English  before  Nova  Scotia  was.  The  French  first  ex- 
plored it,  and  it  probably  received  its  na'me  from  the  Bretons  of 
France.  The  French  were  probably  the  first,  after  Cabot,  to 
reach  Nova  Scotia,  and  they  were  the  first  to  attempt  its  colo- 
nization. We  have  already  found  that  the  Portuguese  left 
swine  and  cattle  on  Sable  Island.  This  was  about  1505.  In 
1538  the  Baron  de  Lery  attempted  to  plant  a  French  colony  in 
the  new  world,  but  incessant  storms  so  delayed  the  expedition 
that  it  arrived  off  the  coast  too  late  in  the  season  to  land  and 
prepare  for  winter.  To  lighten  his  vessel  for  the  return  voyage 
he  left  his  cattle  on  Sable  Island.  With  these  were  several 
horses  or  ponies,  from  which  have  sprung  the  hardy,  shaggy 
ponies  that  still  run  wild  on  its  sand  dunes.  In  1598  the  Mar- 
quis de  la  Roche  was  granted  letters  patent  by  Henry  IV  of 
France,  giving  him  power  over  the  "islands  and  countries  of 
Canada,  Sable  Island,  Newfoundland,  and  the  adjacent  re- 
gions." Forty  convicts  from  the  royal  prisons  were  given  him 
as  colonists.  He  decided  to  leave  his  colonists  upon  Sable 
Island  until  he  had  selected  and  prepared  a  place  for  his  settle- 


14 


BVANGBUNB. 


r 


ment.  Immediately  after  leaving  the  island  a  great  and  long 
continued  storm  arose,  which  drove  his  vessel  so  far  eastward 
that  he  decided  to  return  to  France.  In  1603  the  king  sent  a 
vessel  to  bring  the  convicts  back.  Twelve  out  of  the  forty 
were  alive.  They  were  taken  to  France,  where  each  received  a 
full  pardon  and  fifty  golden  crowns. 


Old  Euthworks  at  AnnapoUs  (Port  RoyalX    "Wben  as  a  captive  I  lay  In  the  old 
French  fort  at  Port  Royal."— Line  308. 

In  the  year  1604  De  Monts,  who  had  been  appointed  gover 
nor  general  of  New  France,  came  with  an  expedition  to  make 
a  settlement.  After  narrowly  escaping  shipwreck  on  the 
"Graveyard  of  the  North  Atlantic,"  he  succe^ed  in  planting 
his  colony  in  the  well  chosen  spot  where  the  town  of  Annapolis 
now  stands.  This  was  the  Port  Royal  of  the  French.  After 
establishing  his  colony  De  Monts  sailed  along  the  coast,  ex- 
plored his  territory,  traded  with  the  Indians  and  made  them 
his  friends.  The  English  who  settled  Jamestown,  Virginia,  in 
1607,  learning  of  the  French  settlement  and  considering  it 
within  the  limits  of  their  charter,  fitted  out  an  expedition  un 


der  the 
Royal  i 
mission 
pillage 
ground! 
tory. 
France, 
own  req 
rates,  ai 
his  cone 


Sabl 
dred  ten 
long  an 
formed  I 
most  of 
grass. 
Sable  Is: 
Its  great 
that  swe 
lent  on  t 
tains  tw( 
ication  \i 
stormy  i 
means  c 
man  can 
pieces  oi 
ever  shif 

Befoi 
was  freqi 
on  the  sli 
these  wr 


r 


"^f 


a  great  and  long 
1  so  far  eastward 
>  the  king  sent  a 
out  of  the  forty 
re  each  received  a 


SVANOBUNB. 


15 


ptive  I  lay  In  the  old 

appointed  gover- 
cpedition  to  make 
lipwreck  on  the 
eeded  in  planting 
own  of  Annapolis 
e  French.  After 
ig  the  coast,  ex 
and  made  then 
;own,  Virginia,  in 
ad  considering  it 
in  expedition  un 


der  the  command  of  Sir  Samuel  Argall,  and  attacked  Port 
Royal  in  1613.  It  was  easily  taken.  ArgaU  found  the  com- 
mission  from  the  French  king  and  concealed  it,  that  he  might 
pillage  the  town  and  treat  the  inhabitants  as  pirates,  on  the 
grounds  that  they  had  no  authority  for  occupying  the  terri- 
tory.  Not  having  sufficient  vessels  in  which  to  return  to 
France,  some  of  the  French  accompanied  Sir  Samuel,  at  his 
own  request,  to  Jamestown,  where  they  were  imprisoned  as  pi- 
rates, and  only  escaped  execution  by  Sir  Samuel's  admission  of 
his  concealment  of  the  French  royal  commission. 

NOTBS. 

Sable  Island  belongs  to  Nova  Scotia  and  is  about  one  hun- 
dred ten  miles  S.  E.  of  Halifax.  It  is  about  twenty-five  miles 
long  and  one  mile  wide.  Its  surface  consists  of  sand  hills 
formed  by  action  of  wind  and  water.  There  are  no  trees,  but 
most  of  its  surface  is  covered  with  a  growth  of  long,  rank 
grass.  There  is  a  lake  of  considerable  size  on  the  island. 
Sable  Island  is  feared  and  shunned  by  mariners  at  all  times. 
Its  great  dangers  are  its  extensive  shoals,  the  ocean  currents 
that  sweep  around  it,  and  the  thick  fogs  which  are  so  preva- 
lent on  the  surrounding  waters.  The  government  now  main- 
tains two  lighthouses  and  a  life  saving  station  here.  Commun- 
ication with  the  island  by  boat  is  almost  impossible  during  the 
stormy  months,  but  an  exchange  of  messages  is  effected  by 
means  of  carrier  pigeons.  A  cable  is  contemplated.  No 
man  can  tell  the  number  of  ships  that  have  been  beaten  to 
pieces  on  its  shoals  and  bars,  and  buried  in  its  treacherous  and 
ever  shifting  sands. 

Before  the  government  established  a  station  there,  the  isUnd 
was  frequented  by  piratical  wreckers  who  sought  the  spoil  cast 
on  the  shore  from  the  wrecks.  Terrible  stories  were  told  of 
these  wreckers.     It  is  said  that  survivors  who  reached  the 


16 


BVANGBUNB. 


shore  from  wrecks  were  murdered  for  their  jewelry  or  valua- 
bles. Sailors  still  tell  of  the  ghost  of  a  lady  which  walks  the 
shores  of  the  island  just  before  a  storm,  and  holds  up  a  bleed- 
ing hand  to  show  that  a  finger  was  severed  to  obtain  a  rii^ 
she  wore. 

It  was  near  this  island  that  the  Bourgogne  went  down   in 
1898. 

SABLE  ISLAND. 

"  Dark  Isle  of  Mourning,  aptly  art  thou  named. 

For  thou  hast  been  the  cause  of  many  a  tear; 

For  deeds  of  treacherous  strife  too  justly  famed, 

The  Atlantic's  Charnel,  desolate  and  drear, 

A  thing  none  love,  though  wand 'ring  thousands  fear; 

If  for  a  moment  rests  the  Muse's  wing 

Where  through  the  waves  thy  sandy  wastes  appear, 

'Tis  that  she  may  one  strain  of  horror  sing, 

Wild  as  the  dashing  waves  that  tempests  o'er  thee  fling." 


In 

was  c£ 

Acadis 

Brunsi 

Frencl 

lived  t; 

indicat 

or  sea 

word  C 

quodd} 

place  0 

In  I 

all  the 

of  St.  J 

Scotlac 

withS< 

Sir  Sai 

settlem 

strengt 

ceeded 

govenw 

the  ord 

furnish 

But  few 

Scotch  ( 

opposite 

stands. 


jewelry  or  valua- 
which  walks  the 
holds  up  a  bleed- 

1  to  obtain  a  rii^ 

le  went  down   in 


named, 
tear; 
famed, 
;ar, 
ousands  fear; 

stes  appear, 

ag, 

J  o'er  thee  fling. " 


CHAPTER  III. 

•      SBTTLEMBNTS  AND  DISTURBANCES. 

In  the  oldest  records  Acadia  is  called  Cadie.  Afterwards  it 
was  called  by  various  writers  Accadia,  L'Acadie,  Acadie  and 
Acadia.  Acadia  under  the  French  included  Nova  Scotia  New 
Brunswick  and  a  part  of  Maine.  The  name  is  probably  the 
French  adaptation  of  a  common  word  of  the  Micmac  Indians  who 
lived  there,  and  signifies  place  or  region.  Used  as  a  suffix  it 
mdicated  the  place  where  various  things,  such  as  berries,  eels 
or  seals  were  found  in  abundance.  The  French  called  this 
word  Cadie  or  Acadie;  the  English  called  it  Quoddv.  Passama- 
quoddy  means  the  place  of  pollocks.  Shubenacadie  means  the 
place  of  ground  nuts. 

In  the  year  1601 ,  James  I.  granted  to  Sir  William  Alexander 
all  the  territory  lying  between  the  river  St.  Croix  and  the  Gulf 
of  St.  tawrence.     The  country  was  named  Nova  Scotia  (New 
Scotland)  in  the  grant.    Sir  William  intended  to  colonize  it 
with  Scotch  emigrants,  but  failed  in  his  attempt  to  do  so.    As 
Sir  Samuel  Argall's  conquest  was  not  followed  up  by  actual 
settlement,  the  French  had  regained  possession,  and  had  been 
strengthened  by  arrivals  from  France.    Charles  I.,  who  sue- 
ceeded  King  James,   reappointed  Sir  William  Alexander  as 
governor  general  of  Nova  Scotia,  in  1624.    He  also  founded 
the  order  of  Knights  Baronet  of  Nova  Scotia,  who  were  to 
furnish  colonists,  and  receive  therefor  16,000  acres  of  land  each 
But  few,  if  any  of  them,  ever  received  their  land.    A  party  of 
Scotch  emigrants  landed  at  Port  Royal  and  built  a  fort  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  basin  where  the  town  of  Granville  now 
stands.    The  remains  of  this  work  are  still  called  '  'The  Scotch 


I 


18 


KVANGEUNE. 


Fort."  In  1632,  when  the  English  were  getting  well  established 
in  the  country,  King  Charles  I.,  by  the  treaty  of  St.  Germains, 
ceded  the  whole  of  Nova  Scotia  and  Canada  to  the  King  of 
France.  Again  in  full  possession  of  the  French,  Acadia 
received  a  French  governor  and  many  settlers.  This  governor, 
Isaac  de  Razilly,  died  and  was  succeeded  by  Chamise. 

While  the  French  officers  were  quarrelling  about  their 
several  claims,  an  English  fleet,  sent  out  by  Cromwell,  easily 
conquered  them,  and  again  the  country  was  in  English  hands. 
In  1667  it  was  again  ceded  to  the  French.  For  twenty-three 
years  Acadia  remained  French.  During  all  these  changes  the 
French  settlers  had  never  completely  deserted  Nova  Scotia,  butt 
the  colonists  received  little  aid  or  attention  from  their  govern- 
ment during  this  period  following  the  treaty  of  1667.  The 
English  colony  in  Massachusetts  was  growing  rapidly,  and  soon 
made  ready  a  strong  force,  under  Sir  William  Phipps,  to  attack 
Acadia.  They  captured  Port  Royal  and  two  smaller  posts; 
dismantled  the  forts  and  returned  to  Massachusetts.  The 
Acadians  at  Port  Royal,  with  no  fort  or  garrison,  were  soon 
visited  by  pirates  who  set  fire  to  houses,  killed  their  cattle, 
hanged  some  of  the  people,  and  burned  one  family  after  shut- 
ting them  in  their  house.  A  new  commander,  Villabon,  came 
from  France,  found  the  town  unprotected,  and  decided  to  land 
the  stores  brought  by  his  vessel  at  the  French  fort  on  the  St. 
John  river  in  New  Brunswick.  On  his  way  to  that  place 
pirates  captured  his  vessel,  and  he  barely  escaped  with  his  life. 
He  received  aid  from  the  Indians  and  renewed  their  friendship 
for  the  French. 

William  and  Mary  of  England  gave  a  new  charter  to  Ma38- 
achusetts,  and  included  in  it  the  colony  of  New  Plymouth,  the 
province  of  Maine  and  Nova  Scotia  with  the  intervening  lands. 
Villabon  ralUed  the  French  and  Indians  at  the  fort  on  the  St. 
John,  and  with  this  force  captured  Pemaquid,  a  fortification  in 


mmmmmmmmmmmmmf^' 


New 

hnndr 
many 
churcl 

In 
of  Ry 
broke 
came, 
lander 
cames 
a  thou 
were  r 
attack 
came  i 
to  rem 
ever,  i 
They( 
they  ii 
to  brit 
tempts 
Nova 
Utrect 
honor 

Foi 
tacks  1 
were  s 
to  the 
burg  V 
Frencl 
difficul 
Utrech 
thousa 
leaders 


'm^-' 


I 


BVANGKLINB. 


19 


g  well  established 
of  St.  Germains, 
a  to  the  King  of 
French,  Acadia 
This  governor, 
hamise. 

ling  about  their 
Cromwell,  easily 
n  English  hands. 
For  twenty-three 
hese  changes  the 
Nova  Scotia,  but) 
om  their  govern- 
y  of  1667.  The 
rapidly,  and  soon 
Fhipps,  to  attach 
ro  smaller  posts; 
sachusetts.  The 
rrison,  were  soon 
illed  their  cattle, 
family  after  shut- 
r,  Villabon,  came 
d  decided  to  land 
:h  fort  on  the  St. 
ray  to  that  place 
iped  with  his  life, 
d  their  friendship 

'  charter  to  Maas- 
:w  Plymouth,  the 
intervening  lands. 
le  fort  on  the  St. 
,  a  fortification  in 


New  England.  To  avenge  this,  Colonel  Church,  with  five 
hundred  men,  sailed  from  Boston  and  ravaged  the  country  at 
many  points  on  and  near  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  They  burned 
churches  and  houses,  killed  the  cattle,  and  cut  the  dykes. 

In  1696  Nova  Scotia  was  restored  to  France  by  the  treaty 
of  Ryswick.  Trouble  arose  over  the  fisheries.  War  again 
broke  out.  The  French  called  the  pirates  to  their  aid.  They 
came,  and  with  the  goods  thus  wrested  from  the  New  Eng. 
landers  the  French  paid  their  Indian  allies.  Colonel  Church 
came  again  in  1 704 ,  and  again  the  country  was  ravaged.  In  1 707 
a  thousand  men  from  New  England  attacked  Port  Royal,  but 
were  repulsed  and  forced  to  reembark.  Again  they  landed  and 
attacked,  but  were  again  defeated.  In  1710  another  expedition 
came  under  General  Nicholson,  and  this  time  Port  Royal  fell, 
lo  remain  in  the  possession  of  the  English.  The  French,  how- 
ever, made  many  efforts  to  drive  out  their  hereditary  enemies. 
They  endeavored  to  preserve  the  loyalty  of  the  French  settlers, 
they  incited  the  Indians  to  attack  the  English,  they  attempted 
to  bring  help  from  Quebec  and  France,  and  at  least  three  at- 
tempts were  made  to  recapture  Port  Royal.  But  all  in  vain. 
Nova  Scotia  was  finally  ceded  to  England  by  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht  in  1713.  Port  Royal  was  now  named  Annapolis  in 
honor  of  Queen  Anne. 

For  many  years  few  settlers  came,  on  account  of  fear  of  at- 
tacks by  the  French  and  Indians.  Canada  and  Cape  Breton 
were  still  French,  and  from  the  latter  place  came  aid  and  trade 
to  the  Acadians,  and  assaults  upon  English  settlers.  Louis- 
burg  was  taken  by  an  English  force,  but  given  back  to  the 
French  in  1748  by  treaty  of  Aix  la  Chapelle.  Old  boundary 
difficulties  now  arose;  the  French  claiming  that  the  treaty  of 
Utrecht  ceded  only  the  peninsula  to  England.  In  1749  two 
thousand  five  hundred  seventy-six  settlers  arrived  under  the 
leadership  of  Edward  Cornwallis.     They  selected  a  site,  and 


I 

I 
i 


I 

I 


found 
Halifi 
Indiai 
nijssii 
Kubmi 
younj 
of  seti 
Louis 
and  p 
and  a 
totak 
still  h 
tainly 
chang 
ill  Ca 
take  f 
Englii 
mout 
four 
Corn\ 
rewar 
In 
Frenc 
inn; 
Indiai 
ernor 
thous 
lodge 
near  1 
a  six 

1. 
that 


BVANOBLINH. 


21 


founded  the  city  of  Halifax,  named  in  honor  of  the  Earl  of 
Halifax,  who  had  assisted  the  expedition.  The  French  and 
Indians  visited  the  settlers  at  Halifax,  and  tendered  their  sub- 
mission to  the  English  authorities.  Notwithstanding  this 
submission,  the  Indians,  probably  assisted  by  some  of  the 
younger  Acadians,  attacked  the  town  by  night,  and  a  number 
of  settlers  were  killed  in  the  forests  or  captured  and  sold  at 
Louisburg.  The  governor  of  Halifax,  to  prevent  these  attacks 
and  protect  the  outlying  settlements,  built  a  fort  at  Windsor 
and  a  blockhouse  at  Horton.  He  then  called  on  the  Acadians 
to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  British  crown.  They 
still  hoped  for  the  French  supremacy  in  Acadia,  and  they  cer- 
tainly had  reasons  to  expect  it  after  the  many  preceding 
changes  of  ownership,  and  the  repeated  assurances  of  the  French 
ill  Canada  and  Louisburg.  In  consequence  they  refused  to 
take  the  oath,  but  again  announced  their  submission  to  the 
English.  The  Indians  remained  actively  hostile.  At  Dart- 
mouth, a  settlement  on  the  opposite  side  of  Halifax  harbor, 
four  men  were  killed  and  scalped,  and  others  carried  off. 
Cornwallis  organized  parties  to  hunt  the  savages,  and  offered  a 
reward  of  ten  guineas  for  every  Indian  scalp. 

In  order  to  strengthen  their  claim  as  to  the  boundary,  the 
French  built  Fort  Beau  Sejour  on  the  isthmus.  Major  Lawrence, 
in  1750,  was  sent  to  the  isthmus  and  defeated  the  French  and 
Indians.  In  1752  Cornwallis  returned  to  England,  and  Gov- 
ernor Hobson  was  sent  out  as  his  successor.  In  1755  three 
thousand  men  under  Monckton  and  Winslow  were  sent  to  dis- 
lodge the  French.  Beau  Sejour  and  Oaspereaux,  another  post 
near  by,  were  taken,  and  the  garrisons  sent  to  Louisburg  under 
a  six  months'  parole. 

NOTSS: 

1.  Arcadia  was  the  only  southern  state  of  ancient  Greece 
that  had  no  sea  coast.     It  was  one  of  the  most  picturesque 


"^M-- 


:^«W«tWW(ft' •«■"*»'  ■' 


22 


BVANGBUNB. 


regions  of  Greece,  and  perhaps  of  the  world.  Lake,  mountains 
streams,  forests,  meadows,  fountains,  glens  and  caves  were 
there.  Without  seaports,  people  are  not  commercial.  Th 
inhabitants,  therefore,  were  hunters  and  shepherds,  quiet  and 
peaceful,  given  to  music  and  dancing.  In  modern  languages 
the  term  Arcadian  means  either  beauty  of  natural  scenery  or 
rusticity  of  manners.  While  the  Acadians  may  have  been 
Arcadian  in  their  manners,  they  did  not  live  in  Arcadia  an( 
were  not  Arcadians.  If  the  name  Arcadia  was  used  by  some 
early  writers,  it  was  an  error  caused  by  the  similarity  of  the 
names, 

2.  The  peninsula  of  Nova  Scotia  is  connected  to  New 
Brunswick  by  an  isthmus  twelve  miles  wide.  The  peninsula 
is  separated  from.  Cape  Breton  Island,  which  is  a  part  of  the 
province,  by  the  strait  of  Canso  or  Canseau. 

3.  Granville,  the  site  of  the  old  Scotch  settlement  opposite 
Annapolis,  was  formerly  called  Caledonia,  and  is  so  named  on 
the  old  maps. 


Ab< 
and  th( 
French 
the  Ac 
the  Ind 
cil  witl] 
from  N 
colonie 
alarm!  r 
Acadia 
came  t< 
summo 
1755,  V 
majorit 
ment,  y 


CI 

u 

Pi 
Y 

N 

P 


Lake,  mountains 
9  and  caves  were 
commercial.  Thu 
epherds,  quiet  and 
modern  languages 
natural  scenery  or 
iS  may  have  been 
ve  in  Arcadia  an( 
was  used  by  some 
e  similarity  of  the 

:onnected  to  New 
2.  The  peninsula 
I  is  a  part  of  the 

lettlement  opposite 
id  is  so  named  on 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Exilb. 

About  this  time  the  English  met  with  reverses  in  Canada, 
and  the  Nova  Scotia  Governor  feared  another  attempt  by  the 
French  to  regain  the  province.  He  believed  that  if  that  occurred 
the  Acadians  would  join  the  invaders,  and  bring  with  them 
the  Indians  to  prey  upon  the  English  .settlers.  He  tcwk  coun- 
cil with  his  advisers,  and  it  was  decided  to  remove  the  Acadians 
from  Nova  Scotia,  and  scatter  them  through  the  other  English 
colonies.  Measures  were  taken  to  prepare  for  this  without 
alarming  the  Acadians.  Suspecting  no  serious  trouble,  the 
Acadians  of  Grand  Pre,  Minas  and  the  adjoining  settlements 
came  together  at  their  church  at  Grand  Pre,  in  obedience  to  the 
summons  of  Colonel  Winslow.  This  was  on  September  2nd, 
1755,  when  the  Acadians  were  busy  with  their  harvest.  The 
majority  of  them  attended  and,  to  their  horror  and  astonish- 
ment, were  informed  of  their  intended  fate. 

"You  are  convened  this  day,"  he  snid,  "by  his  Majesty's 

orders. 
Clement  and  kind  has  he  been;  but  bow  you  have  answered 

his  kindness 
Let  your  own  hearts  reply!    To  my  natural  make  and  my 

temper 
Painful  the  task  is  I  do,   which  to  you  I  know  must  be 

grievous. 
Yet  must  I  bow  and  obey,   and  deliver  the  will  of  our 

Monarch: 

Namely,  that  all  your  lands,   and  dwellings,   and  cattle  of     " 

all  kinds 
Forfeited  be  to  the  crown;  and  that  you  yourselves  from 

this  province 

(») 


24  EVANGEUNfi. 

Be  transported  to  other  lands.    God  grant  you  may  dwell 

there 
Ever  as  faithful  subjects,  a  happy  and  peaceable  people ! 
Prisoners    now  1  declare  you,    for  such  is  his  Majesty's 

pleasure!" 

Similar  action  was  taken  at  Annapolis,  Cumberland  and 
other  points;  in  all,  about  seven  tbousand  souls  were  transpor- 
ted. The  number  collected  at  Grand  Pre  was  one  thousand 
nine  hundred  twenty-three.    A  few  had  escaped  to  the  forest, 


Cape  Blomidon  from  the  Ilasln  of  Hinas. 

and  to  deprive  them  of  sustenance  all  buildings  were  burned, 
crops  destroyed  and  cattle  driven  away.  In  the  district 
of  Minas  255  houses,  276  barns,  155  outbuildings,  11  mills 
and  one  church  were  destroyed.  On  the  10th  of  September 
the  people  were  put  on  board  the  transports.  Heartbroken 
and  despairing,  this  whole  community  was  carried  from  the 
only  homes  many  of  its  members  had  ever  known.  They 
could,  carry  nothing  with  them  but  a  few  household  goods. 
Their  crops,  on  which  they  subsisted,  were  gone.    Their  houses. 


in  wl 
happ 
drive 
ship; 
along 
theF 
a  reli 
provi 
pitial 
appej 
S( 
was  s 
hunti 
amun 
peopl 
nor  c 
their 
escap 
live  t( 
and  c 


S( 
the  o 


:  you  may  dwell 

iceable  people ! 
is  his  Majesty's 

s,  Cumberland  and 
souls  were  transpor- 
i  was  one  thousand 
scaped  to  the  forest, 


Inas. 

Idings  were  burned, 
In  the  district 
tbuildings,  11  mills 
10th  of  September 
lorts.  Heartbroken 
IS  carried  from  the 
iver  known.  They 
r  household  goods. 
;one.    Their  houses, 


EV  ANGELINA. 


26 


in  which  they  were  born  and  in  which  they  had  spent  so  many 
happy  days,  were  in  ashes.  Their  cattle  were  slaughtered  or 
driven  away.  Their  farms  had  forever  passed  from  their  owner- 
ship; and  they  themselves  were  carried  to  the  English  colonies 
along  the  Atlantic  coast,  and  landed  among  a  people  hostile  to^ 
the  French  nation,  speaking  a  language  unknown  to  them,  of 
a  religion  at  variance  with  theirs,  and  unwilling  or  unable  to 
provide  for  their  maintenance.  Their  condition  was  truly 
pitiable.  Is  ^  surprising  that  their  sufferings  and  wrongs 
appeal  to  us  strongly  even  at  this  late  day? 

Some  found  their  way  to  Louisiana  where  their  language 
was  spoken ;  some  went  to  the  western  frontier  and  engaged  in 
hunting  and  trapping;  some  went  to  Canada;  others  remained 
amung  the  English;  a  number  were  sent  to  England  by  the 
people  of  Virginia  and  South  Carolina,  after  asking  the  Gover- 
nor of  Nova  Scotia  for  money  for  their  support;  a  few  found 
their  way  back  to  Nova  Scotia,  and,  joining  those  who  had 
escaped  exile,  formed  little  settlements;  and  their  descendants 
live  to-day  in  their  Acadian  land  and  still  preserve  the  old  dress 
and  customs  of  their  forefathers. 

"Still  stands  the  forest  primeval;  but  under  the  shade  of  its 

branches 
Dwells  another  race,  with  other  customs  and  language. 
Only  along  the  shore  of  the  mournful  and  mystic  Atlantic 
Linger  a  few  Acadian  peasants,  whose  fathers  from  exile 
Wandered  back  to  their  native  land  to  die  in  its  bosom. 
In  the  fisherman's  cot  the  wheel  and  the  loom  are  still  busy; 
Maidens  still  wear  their  Morman  caps  and  their  kirtles  of 

homespun, 
And  by  the  evening  fire  repeat  Evangeline's  story." 

Some  of  the  Acadians  had  signified  their  willingness  to  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance  when  they  saw  that  exile  was  forthcom- 
ing, but  this  privilege  was  refused  them.     They  had  asked  to 


26 


BVANGEUNB. 


be  permitted  to  remove  to  the  French  colony  in  Louisburg,  but 
this  had  been  refused  on  the  grounds  that  it  would  add  to  the 
strength  of  the  force  already  there,  and  increase  the  danger  of 
incursions.  They  had  been  threatened  with  removal,  but  did 
not  fully  understand  the  penalty.  Something  had  to  be  done 
to  settle  this  vexed  Acadian  question;  but  we  shudder  as  we 
contemplate  the  full  results  of  the  settlement  as  carried  out. 
After  the  exile  of  the  Acadians,  the  home  government  desired 
that  the  land  should  be  occupied  by  disbanded  soldiers.  The 
governor  of  Nova  Scotia  objected,  claiming  that  they  were  not 
the  proper  material  for  a  new  colony.  The  governor  was  per 
mitted  to  adopt  his  own  plans,  and  he  proceeded  to  invite  set- 
tlers from  New  England,  through  the  provincial  agent  at 
Boston.  As  a  result  several  hundred  settlers  came  from 
Massachusetts,  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island. 

The  power  of  the  French  in  the  new  world  was  rapidly 
waning.  In  1758  Louisburg  surrendered  to  Amherst,  Prince 
Edward's  Island  was  taken  soon  after,  and  in  1759  Quebec  fell. 
By  this  final  victory  the  English  became  masters  of  all  Canada. 
By  the  treaty  of  Paris  in  1763,  the  French  gave  up  all  claim  to 
Nova  Scotia,  Cape  Breton,  Canada,  and  many  islands  in  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence. 

When  the  American  Revolution  broke  out  and  the  Thirteen 
United  Colonies  declared  themselves  free  and  independent  in 
1776,  the  province  of  Nova  Scotia  remained  loyal  to  the  crown, 
although  there  was  some  dissatisfaction.  Immediately  after 
the  close  of  the  war  Nova  Scotia  received  a  large  addition  to 
its  population  by  the  emigration  of  loyalists  from  the  states. 
Between  fifteen  thousand  and  twenty  thousand  of  these  refu- 
gees landed  at  dififerent  ports  of  the  province,  Mapy  of  them 
found  homes  in  the  valley  that  was  the  former  home  of  the 
Acadians. 


1  Louisburg,  but 
irould  add  to  the 
>e  the  danger  of 
emoval,  but  did 

had  to  be  done 
:  shudder  as  we 

as  carried  out. 
emraent  desired 
I  soldiers.  The 
it  they  were  not 
•vernor  was  per- 
ed  to  invite  set- 
incial  agent  at 
.ers  came  from 

rid  was  rapidly 
Amherst,  Prince 
759  Quebec  fell. 
rs  of  all  Canada. 
!  up  all  claim  to 
1  islands  in  the 

ttd  the  Thirteen 
independent  in 
il  to  the  crown, 
mediately  after 
irge  addition  to 
rom  the  states, 
i  of  these  refu- 
Mapy  of  them 
er  home  of  the 


1 


BVANGBLINB. 


NOTES. 


27 


1.  The  people  of  Acadia  were  mainly  the  descendants  of 
colonists  brought  out  by  Isaac  de  Razilly  and  Charnise  between 
the  years  1 633  and  1 638.  These  colonists  came  from  Rochelle, 
Saintonge,  and  Poitou,  so  that  they  were  drawn  from  a  very 
limited  area  on  the  west  coast  of  France,  covered  by  the  mod- 
ern departments  of  Vendue  and  Charente  Infferieure.  This 
circumstance  had  some  influence  on  their  mode  of  settling  the 
lands  of  Acadia,  for  they  came  from  a  country  of  marshes, 
where  the  sea  was  kept  out  by  artificial  dykes,  and  they  found 
in  Acadia  similar  marshes,  which  they  dealt  with  in  the  same 
way  that  they  had  been  accustomed  to  practice  in  France.— 
Hannays  History  of  Acadia. 

2.  The  Gaspereau  is  a  stream  flowing  from  the  southwest 
into  the  Basin  of  Minas,  near  Grand  Pre.  .  At  its  mouth  the 
Acadians  embarked.  This  must  not  be  confused  with  the  post 
of  the  same  name  on  the  isthmus. 

3.  The  Cornwallis  mentioned  as  the  governor  of  Nova 
Scotia,  was  not  the  Cornwallis  of  the  Revolution. 


.it* 


CHAPTER  V. 
Thb  Acadian  Land. 

"A  land  which  floweth  with  milk  and  honey." 
"And  ye  shall  dispossess  the  inhabitants  thereof 
and  dwell  therein." 

The  site  of  the  first  settlement  by  De  Monts,  and  the  region 
made  famous  by  Longfellow's  poem,  are  both  in  the  valley 
formed  by  two  ridges  of  highlands  called  the  North  and  the 
South  mountain.     This  valley  extends  through  the  counties  of 
Annapolis  and  King's.     The  North  mountain  fronts  on  the 
shore  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  extends  from  Digby  Cut,  at  the 
entrance  to  Annapolis  Basin,  northeastwardly  to  Capes  Blom- 
idon  and  Split  at  the  entrance  of  the  Basin  of  Minas.     The 
South  mountain  is  neither  as  steep  nor  as  high  as  the  North, 
but  extends  nearly  parallel  to  it.     To  the  westward  through 
this  valley,  runs  the  Annapolis  river,  emptying  into  Annapolis 
Basin  at  the  site  of  old  Port  Royal.     In  the  broader  eastern 
end  of  the  valley,  which  drains  into  Minas  Basin,  there  are  many 
streams:— the  Gaspereau,    Comwallis,    Canard,   Pereau  and 
Habitant  rivers.    The  land  drained  by  these  rivers  is  the  most 
fertile  and  highly  cultivated  of  any  in  the  province.     It  is  fitly 
called  the  "Garden  of  Nova  Scotia. "     Along  the  western  shore 
of  Minas  Basin,  from  Grand  Pre  to  the  foothills  of  the  North 
Mountain,  are  the  dyke. lands  reclaimed  from  the  sea  by  the 
French  and  their  successors.    This  dyke  land  is  the  most  val- 
.  uable  of  the  many  soils  found  in  the  valley.    In  most  instances 
of  alluvial  deposits  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  the  deposit  is 
brought,  to  the  sea  by  the  rivers.     Here  we  find  the  process  is 

(») 


>ney." 
i  thereof 


IS,  and  the  region 
ith  in  the  valley 
i  North  and  the 
h  the  counties  of 
in  fronts  on  the 
DigbyCut,  at  the 

to  Capes  Blom- 
of  Minas.  The 
:h  as  the  North, 
jstward  through 
?  into  Annapolis 

broader  eastern 
1,  there  are  many 
rd,  Pereau  and 
ivers  is  the  most 
ince.  It  is  fitly 
be  western  shore 
ills  of  the  North 

the  sea  by  the 
is  the  most  val- 
n  most  instances 
d,  the  deposit  is 
id  the  process  is 


)f*p  of  AniwpoUs  and  Kin^  Countlcf, 


30 


BVANOSUNS. 


reversed,  and  the  deposit  is  brought  up  the  rivers  by  the  sea. 
This  alluvial  matter  comes  from  the  shores  and  bottom  of  the 
basin  and  bay,  from  whence  it  is  torn  by  the  mighty  tides 
which  ever  sweep  back  and  forth  through  their  channels.  The 
torrent  sweeps  up  the  Bay  of  Fundy  and  enters  the  Basin  at 
Cape  Split,  where  it  reaches  a  velocity  of  ten  or  twelve  miles 
an  hour.  Here  it  reaches  its  greatest  height  of  seventy  feet 
above  low  water  mark.  In  some  of  the  Acadian  rivers,  the 
upward  flow  of  the  tide  against  the  fresh  water  current  forms 
a  wall  of  water  called  the  bore  of  the  tide.  This  sweeps  up 
the  stream  at  a  rapid  rate,  and  with  a  loud  rushing  sound.  The 
height  of  the  bore  illustrated  on  page  42  is  5  feet  4  inches. 

The  largest  unbroken  tract  of  dyke  land  in  the  province 
is  the  Grand  Pre,  or  Great  Meadow,  in  Horton.  This  tract 
the  Acadians  reclaimed  by  building  dykes  from  either  end 
of  Long  Island  to  the  mainland.  South  of  Long  Island, 
where  the  upland  rises  from  the  Grand  Pre,  was  the  village  of 
the  Acadians.  In  the  field  just  in  front  of  the  row  of  old 
French  willows,  can  still  be  seen  the  cellar  of  the  house  which 
is  supposed  to  be  the  one  used  as  Colonel  Winslow's  head- 
quarters during  his  momentous  visit.  Here,  too,  is  the  site  of 
the  village  church.  The  old  French  well  marks  the  site  of  the 
village  green,  and  a  little  farther  eastward  was  the  Acadian 
cemetery.  The  village  probably  extended  irregularly  from  the 
church  southward  to  the  higher  lands.  Along  the  line  of  the 
village  street  may  be  seen  many  willows,  the  old  French  apple 
trees,  the  grave  of  an  English  soldier  who  died  at  the  time  of 
the  exile,  and  the  site  of  the  village  smithy.  To  the  north- 
ward of  the  row  of  willows  first  mentioned,  stretches  the  great 
meadow  from  which  the  village  received  its  name;  and  beyond 
that  is  Long  Island,  easily  distinguished  by  the  trees  and 
Louses  upon  it. 


1 


SVAN0BUN8. 


ivers  by  the  sea. 
nd  bottom  of  the 
he  mighty  tides 
r  channels.  The 
ers  the  Basin  at 
or  twelve  miles 
t  of  seventy  feet 
adian  rivers,  the 
ler  current  forms 
This  sweeps  up 
liing  sound.  The 
eet  4  inches, 
in  the  province 
ton.  This  tract 
from  either  end 
>f  Long  Island, 
as  the  village  of 

the  row  of  old 
the  house  which 
^inslow's  head- 
:oo,  is  the  site  of 
ks  the  site  of  the 
vas  the  Acadian 
igularly  from  the 
1^  the  line  of  the 
)ld  French  apple 
1  at  the  time  of 

To  the  north- 
'etches  the  great 
me;  and  beyond 
Y  the  trees  and 


32 


BVANOHUNB. 


"And  away  to  the  northward 

Blomidon    rose,   and  the  forests  old,  and    aloft   on    the 

mountains 
Sea  fogs  pitched  their  tents,  and  mists  from  the  mighty 

Atlantic 
Looked  on  the  happy  valley,  but  ne'er  from  their  station 

descended." 

Blomidon  is  plainly  seen  to  the  northward,  and  very  often 
the  "mists  from  the  mighty  Atlantic"  roll  in  great  masses  over 
the  top  of  the  North  mountain  and  hide  much  of  it  from  view. 
At  such  times  the  mist  or  fog  rarely  descends  to  the  valley. 
Great  detached  masses  of  fog  often  hang  on  the  side  or  stunmit 
of  Blomidon,  and  can  be  seen  plainly  from  the  land  or  from 
the  waters  of  the  Basin.  Blomidon  is  a  bluff  headland  of  red 
sandstone,  surmounted  by  a  perpendicular  wall  of  basaltic  trap, 
the  whole  about  six  hundred  feet  high.  This  headland  is  a 
rich  field  for  the  geologist,  as  the  varieties  of  specimens  found 
are  numerous  and  interesting.  In  the  spring,  after  the  severe 
frosts  of  winter,  great  masses  are  detached  from  its  sides,  and 
crash  downward  to  be  ground  by  the  relentless  tides.  The 
geologist  must  work  among  these  masses  at  low  water,  because 
at  high  tide  the  sea  washes  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Many  beauti- 
ful  specimens  of  amethyst  are  found.  The  underlying  sand- 
stone is  worn  away  by  tidal  action,  and  this  hastens  the  fall 
of  the  trap  rock  from  above. 

The  soil  of  the  dyke  lands  consists  mainly  of  a  large  jper- 
centage  of  silica,  the  iron  which  gives  the  reddish  color,  cal- 
careous matter,  and  various  salts  of  potash,  lime,  alumina,  etc. 
This  combination  is  a  most  favorable  one,  and  its  fertility  is 
increased  by  sediment  brought  by  the  streams  from  the  uplands. 
For  nearly  two  hundred  years  these  dyke  lands  have  been  pro- 
ducing from  two  to  four  tons  per  acre  of  the  finest  hay,  and 
have  also  furnished  autumn  pasturage  for  cattle.  The  marsh 
mud  is  taken  from  tidal  streams  or  rivers  in  autumn  or  winter, 


1. 
2. 


oft  on   the 
the  mighty 
their  station 

i,  and  very  often 
;reat  masses  over 
[  of  it  from  view, 
is  to  the  valley, 
le  side  or  summit 
he  land  or  from 
r  headland  of  red 
11  of  basaltic  trap, 
is  headland  is  a 
specimens  found 
,  after  the  severe 
9m  its  sides,  and 
less  tides.  The 
w  water,  because 
r.  Many  beautl- 
inderlying  sand- 
hastens  the  fall 

y  of  a  large  per- 
Kldish  color,  cal- 
ne,  alumina,  etc. 
id  its  fertility  is 
from  the  uplands. 
Is  have  been  pro> 
!  finest  hay,  and 
tie.  The  marsh 
itumn  or  winter, 


BVANOBLimi. 


33 


and  used  as  a  fertilizer  on  the  uplands,  with  excellent  re- 
sults. 

Apples  and  potatoes  are  the  principal  products  of  the  valley, 
and  are  shipped  mostly  to  England  and  the  West  Indies! 
Grapes,  berries,  plums,  cherries,  and  various  vegetables  are 
successfully  raised.  Wheat,  rye,  and  oats  are  a  profitable  crop, 
but  the  amount  produced  is  much  smaller  per  acre  than  on 
the  prairies  of  our  west  and  northwest.  The  longevity  of 
apple  trees  is  apparent  when  we  notice,  as  stated  above,  that 
apple  trees  planted  by  the  French  are  still  living.  The  forests 
supply  spruce,  f  r,  pine,  hemlock,  birch,  beech,  maple,  oak, 
elm,  and  other  woods,— in  fact  nearly  all  the  varieties  required 
for  housebuilding  and  shipbuilding.  The  sea  supplies  cod, 
herring,  mackerel,  lobsters,  salmon,  shad,  smelts,  gaspereau 
or  alewives,  haddock,  pollock,  flounders,  sea-bass,  sturgeon, 
and  many  other  fish;  while  the  streams  contain  an  abundance 
of  speckled  trout. 

In  the  woods  are  moose,  caribou,  bear,  the  timber  wolf,  fox, 
lynx,  wild-cat,  porcupine,  rabbit  and  skunk.  Otter,  mink  and 
musk-rat  are  in  the  streams  and  ponds.  Of  birds  there  are 
geese,  ducks,  plover,  snipe,  woodcock  and  partridge.  From 
the  fields  and  woods  are  gathered  checkerberries,  hazel  nuts, 
beech  nuts,  strawberries,  blueberries,  huckleberries,  cranber- 
ries, juniper  berries,  red  raspberries,  blackberries,  gooseber- 
ries, bunchberries,  and  spruce  gum.  The  dainty  and  beautiful 
mayflower  abounds. 

In  this  short  chapter  we  can  learn  but  little  of  the  many 
resources  and  advantages  of  this  wonderful  country,  but  we 
certainly  are  convinced  that  it  is  "a  land  which  floweth  wUh 
milk  and  honey." 

NOTKS. 

1.  Dyke  lands  are  worth  from  $300  to  $400  per  acre. 

2.  The  amount  given  as  the  maximum  yield  per  acre  of 


34 


BVANOSLINB. 


hay  on  the  dyke  lands  is  four  tons.  This  is  considered  fairly 
accurate,  as  the  author  knows  of  a  yield  of  44  T.  1800  lbs.  from 
ten  acres,  and  can  furnish  data  from  many  reliable  sources  that 
place  the  amount  at  the  figures  given. 

3.  It  is  stated  on  good  authority  that  four  hundred  bushels 
of  potatoes  were  grown  on  one  acre  of  ground  near  Kentville. 

4.  The  name  "gaspereau"  is  a  local  name  applied  to  the 
alewives,  for  the  reason  that  the  Gaspereau  is  the  only  stream 
they  ascend  from  the  Basin  of  Minas.  The  Gaspereau  is  the 
only  one  of  these  streams  that  has  its  source  in  a  lake,  and  the 
alewives  probably  seek  this  lake  for  spawning. 

5.  King's  County  raises  225,000  bushels  of  potatoes  yearly. 
The  estimated  yearly  apple  product  of  King's  and  Annapolis 
counties  is  500,000  bbl. 


wm 


\  I 


u 


considered  fairly 
r.  1800  lbs.  from 
able  sources  that 

hundred  bushels 
1  near  Kentville. 
i  applied  to  the 
the  only  stream 
raspereau  is  the 
a  lake,  and  the 

potatoes  yearly, 
and  Annapolis 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Thb  Succbssors. 
"Dwells  another  race  with  other  customs  and  language." 

The  settlers  who  came  to  the  valley  after  the  Exile,  were  a 
hardy  and  industrious  people.  As  many  of  them  came  from 
New  England,  they  brought  with  them  the  customs,  dress, 
habits  and  religious  views  of  New  England.  These  were 
somewhat  modified  by  the  presence  of  settlers  from  Great 
Britain,  and  the  trade  with  that  country.  We  know  but  little 
of  the  social  condition  and  affairs  of  these  people  during  the 
first  years  of  the  occupation,  but,  as  they  were  without  rail- 
road, telegraph  or  steamboat,  it  is  fair  to  presume  that  there 
was  little  change  previous  to  the  year  1800. 

The  houses  were  warmed  and  the  cooking  done  by  means 
of  the  fireplace,  with  its  necessary  andirons,  shovel,  tongs, 
poker,  bellows,  crane,  bake-kettle  and  brick  oven.  The  baking 
was  mainly  done  in  the  brick  oven.  Quarters  of  meat,  six  or 
eight  loaves  of  bread,  a  loaf*  of  cake,  and  a  half  dozen  pies  was 
considered  no  unusual  quantity  to  put  into  one  oven  at  one 
time.  Often  a  loaf  of  bread  or  cake,  or  a  pudding,  was  baked 
in  the  bake-kettle  over  the  fire.  The  bake-kettle  was  a  round 
iron  kettle  about  ten  inches  deep,  and  had  an  iron  cover.  It 
was  hung  on  the  crane  over  a  slow  fire.  When  baking,  coals 
were  put  on  the  cover.  The  baking  thus  done  was  very  satis- 
factory. Often,  what  was  called  short-cake,  made  like  our 
biscuit,  was  baked  before  the  fire  in  a  long  handled  frying  pan, 
the  handle  resting  on  a  chair.  Pancakes  were  fried  in  this 
same  pan,  and  the  cook  would  turn  the  cake  without  knife  or 
lifter,  but  by  a  quick  movement  of  the  hand  and  arm.    One 

(38) 


36 


KVANOKUNK. 


young  lady  was  thus  frying  cakes  while  a  young  man,  who 
was  greatly  interested  in  her,  sat  in  the  chimney  corner  watch- 
ing her  dexterously  turning  them.  Something  that  confused 
her  must  have  l)een  said,  for  she  missed  the  turn  on  one,  and  it 
landed  in  his  lap,  raw  side  down. 

Everyone  kept  sheep.  The  sheep  were  sheared ,  the  wool  was 
picked  and  greased,  and  taken  to  the  carding  machine,  where  it 
was  made  into  rolls.  It  was  then  taken  home,  and  spun  into 
yarn  on  the  big  wheel.  From  there  it  went  to  the  loom  where 
it  was  woven  into  blankets,  and  cloth  for  men's  clothes  and 
women's  dresses  for  everyday  use.  No  young  lady  was  ready 
to  be  married  until  she  had  prepared  a  stock  of  home  made 
blankets,  so  much  needed  in  that  climate. 

Flax  was  raised,  cleansed  of  the  tow,  or  hard  part,  on  the 
hatchel,  a  board  with  long  iron  teeth,  and  spun  on  the  little 
wheel.  The  product  was  then  woven,  and  this  too  was  an  im- 
portant part  of  a  young  lady's  dowry.    . 

Wheat  bread  and  rye  bread  were  used;  also  much  com 
meal.  "Fine  bread"  was  of  wheat,  "coarse  bread"  was  of 
rye.  Coal  oil  came  into  use  about  1840.  Before  that  time, 
and  to  a  great  extent  for  many  years  after,  the  light  used  was 
from  dipped  or  moulded  candles. 

At  church  the  conduct  of  old  and  young  was  governed  by 
rigid  rules.  All  actions  in  the  house  of  God  were  most  sedate 
and  exemplary.  Sunday  school  began  at  9:00  A.  m.  and  lasted 
until  10:45.  Then  en  intermission  of  fifteen  minutes  was  given 
for  children  to  walk  in  the  graveyard,  read  the  inscriptions  on 
the  tombstones,  and  eat  their  lunches.  Church  services  began 
at  1 1  o'clock.  After  the  sermon,  liberty  was  given  to  anyone 
desiring  to  speak.  In  the  Presbyterian  church  they  sang  the 
Psalms  of  David,  in  the  Baptist  church  Watts'  hyms  were 
used,  and  with  the  Methodist  church  came  Wesley's  hymns. 
Pews  were  either  owned  or  rented.    When  a  family  hadentered 


^^IdM^Ktt&itaK  " 


1 


oung  man,  who 
ey  corner  watch- 
ig  that  confused 
m  on  one,  and  it 

red,  the  wool  was 

lachine,  where  it 

e,  and  spun  into 

the  loom  where 

:n's  clothes  and 

lady  was  ready 

of  home  made 

ard  part,  on  the 
>un  on  the  little 
3  too  was  an  itn- 

also  much  com 

bread"  was  of 

ifore  that  time, 

:  light  used  was 

^as  governed  by 
ere  most  sedate 
A.  M.  and  lasted 
inutes  was  given 
inscriptions  on 
1  services  began 
(iven  to  anyone 
1  they  sang  the 
tts'  hyms  were 
'esley's  hymns, 
nily  hadentered 


1 


KVANORUNB. 


37 


their  pew  the  door  was  closed  and  buttoned.  Many  pews  had 
a  low  seat  along  one  b'uIv  for  the  children,  who  were  not 
allowed  to  be  conspicuous.  During  the  prayer  all  stood  and 
faced  about,  except  in  the  Methodist  church,  where  all  knelt. 
The  negro  pews  were  in  the  gallery.  Negroes  were  not 
allowed  to  enter  the  body  of  the  church. 

Little  girls  wore  short  dresses,  as  they  do  now,  but  with 
pantalets  down  to  the  shoe-tops.     Their  shoes  were  not  high 


1 

i 

-•*''•■ 

1 

''pM 

3 

St^il, 

^^^^ 

AlNjI 

iuS 

.. 

. 

'^i'r^.w' 

1 

-*»j>»,frrK! 

%^.. 

■■ 

Port  WIHUnM  Bridge,  CornwAllli  Biver,  Tide  out. 

laced  or  buttoned,  but  low,  with  two  or  three  pairs  of  eyelets 
for  laces.  Their  hats  had  very  broad  brims.  Beads  of  glass. 
West  India  peas,  or  gold  were  much  worn.  The  boys  wore 
long  pants  and  boots,  short  jackets,  and  flat  topped  caps  with 
glazed  visors.  After  the  days  of  stocks,  knee-pants  and  large 
buckles,  the  men  wore  white  beaver  hats,  "swallow-tailed" 
coats  with  brass  or  horn  buttons,  vests  of  various  colors,  and 
white  or  black  trousers.  For  work  in  the  woods  in  winter, 
many  men  wore  rawhide  moccasins.    In  winter,  the  older  men 


n 


38 


BVANGBLINB. 


wore  long  camelot  cloaks  fastened  at  the  throat  by  a  chain. 
The  old  ladies  wore  long  cloaks  of  broadcloth  or  shepherd's 
plaid.  Large  bonnets  were  worn,  and  in  due  time  came  the 
kind  called  the  "scoop"  bonnet. 

Children  did  not  have  the  toys  and  playthings  of  to-day. 
A  wax  doll  or  a  London  doll  was  a  luxury  and  rarity.  A 
whole  family  of  rag  dolls  usually  inhabited  the  garret.  An 
old  dormer  window  was  also  a  favorite  play  house. 

At  school,  the  desks  consisted  of  a  board  placed  slantwise, 
and  extending  along  the  wall  on  three  sides  of  the  school-room! 
In  front  of  this  "desk"  was  a  bench  for  the  pupils,  and  under 
the  "desk"  was  a  horizontal  board  for  the  books.     When  the 
pupils  wrote  they  faced  the  wall;  when  they  studied  or  recited 
they  swung  their  feet  over  the  bench  and  faced  the  center  of 
the  room.     Classes  studied  their  spelling  aloud  and  in  unison, 
swaying  together  on  the  bench  as  the  cadence  rose  and  fell. 
When  a  school  became  crowded,  a  double  "desk"  with  its 
benches  was  built  down  the  middle  of  the  room.     Most  school- 
houses  were  built  with  a  dungeon,  a  small  room  with  no  win- 
dows, for  the  confinement  of  refractory  pupils.     Quill  pens 
were  used,  and  the  teacher  kept  them  in  repair.     When  the 
school  had  a  lady  teacher,  all  the  girls  took  their  "work"  and 
learned  to  sew.     The  teacher  basted  most  of  the  work.    After 
learning  to  sew,  each  girl  was  expected  to  work  a  "sampler," 
which  was  a  small  square  of  canvas,  around  the  edge  of  which 
a  vine  with  fruit  was  worked  with  crewels.    Inside  the  vine 
was  the  name  of  the  worker,  her  age,  the  alphabet,  and  some- 
times a  motto,  a  bird  or  an  animal.     The  boys  had  but  few 
playthings  except  those  made  with  a  jack  knife.    They  played 
ball,  hide  and  seek,  tag  and  various  other  games  similar  to  those 
of  to-day.    Girls  and  boys  played  together  "Old  Mother  Hop- 
pity  Clink,"  "Thomaway,"  "The  Spanish  Knight"  or  "The 
Rich  Widow." 


1 


throat  by  a  chain, 
doth  or  shepherd's 
lue  time  came  the 

ythings  of  to-day. 

ry  and  rarity.     A 

d  the  garret.    An 

house. 

1  placed  slantwise, 

}f  the  school-room. 

pupils,  and  under 
books.     When  the 

studied  or  recited 
Ficed  the  center  of 
ud  and  in  unison, 
nee  rose  and  fell. 
i  "desk"  with  its 
>m.     Most  school- 
oom  with  no  win- 
upils.     Quill  pens 
spair.     When  the 
their  "work"  and 
'  the  work.    After 
rork  a  "sampler," 
the  edge  of  which 
Inside  the  vine 
;>habet,  and  some- 
>oys  had  but  few 
ife.     They  played 
les  similar  to  those 
Old  Mother  Hop- 
ECnight"  or  "The 


Mother: 
Knight: 

Mother: 
Knight: 


BVANOBI,INB.  39 

SPANISH  KNIGHT. 

"My  daughter  Jane  she  is  too  young 

To  be  ruled  by  your  false,  flattering  tongue." 

"Then  fare-thee-well,  my  lady  gay, 
For  I  must  turn  another  way." 

"Turn  back,  turn  back,  ye  Spanish  Knight, 
And  scour  your  boots  and  spurs  so  bright." 

"My  boots  and  spurs  they  cost  you  naught. 
For  in  this  town  they  were  not  bought; 
So,  fare-thee-well,  my  lady  gay, 
For  1  must  go  another  way." 

RICH  WIDOW. 

"I  am  a  rich  widow; 

I  live  all  alone; 

I  have  but  one  daughter 

And  she  is  my  own. 

Come  choose  you  a  good  one 

Or  choose  you  none. " 

The  young  men  gathered  birch  bark,  which  was  used  to 
make  "Ughters"  for  Ughting  the  candles,  kindling  fires,  and 
also  to  spread  on  the  house  under  the  shingles,  to  keep  out  the 
cold  of  winter.  They  gathered  rushes  for  bottoming  chairs 
They  gathered  the  moss  from  the  uplands,  and  in  summer  the 
parlor  fireplace  was  filled  with  it.  In  for^t  or  field  they  saw 
blackbirds,  jays,  bob-o'-lmks.  robins,  the  great  snowy  owl,  the 
big  brown  owl,  and  the  little  screech  owl.  The  little  red 
squirrel  was  common,  crows  and  guUs  were  numerous,  and  in 
some  locahties  the  raven  was  found.  The  housewife  gathered 
for  medicmal  uses  lobelia,  catnip,  boneset.  tansy,  wormwood. 


1 


,!#»' 


46 


SVANQBLmB. 


motherwort,    celandine,   pith  elder  and  sumac.      From  the! 
shores  and  mud  flats  came  an  abundance  of  clams  and  scallops,  [ 
called  by  the  people  "skim  sheUs,"  because  they  were  exten- 
sively used  for  skimming  milk. 

From  the  rocks,  at  low  water,  was  picked  an  edible  sea  weed  I 
called  dulse. 


.■wy< 


fe^^ 


ajjlBWllWWlBi'^ii^^iMacagg^ig 


Port  WUlUuns  Bridge,  CornwaUU  Blver,  Tide  in. 
NOTSS. 

1.  The  English  custom  of  turning  to  the  left  when  meet- 
ing on  the  highway  was  adopted. 

2.  The  principal  roads  running  east  and  west  through  this! 
part  of  the  valley  were  called  streets. 

3.  In  one  of  the  old  church-yards  was  a  head-stone  at  thel 
grave  of  "Hannah  EngUsh  and  Child,  1767."  This  head-l 
stone  was  broken,  through  age  or  accident,  and  in  the  summerj 
of  1897  it  Was  stolen  by  some  relic  hunting  tourist. 


Thepr 

I  sixty- five  < 

I  the  trip  to 

was  used; 

I  The  prodti 

I  geese,  chi< 

I  socks  and  i 

the  pair,  i 

were  about 

per  pair  for 

thread,  su{ 

kept  a  gen 

Thedrygo< 

shillings  an 

per,  with  o 

and  Prencb 

Thevel 
caracole,  ai 
used  the  \t 
with  broad  ^ 
of  the  dyk( 
horses  were 
with  strips 
to  the  mou 
fowling  pie 
wells  by  me 
horseback,  i 


'^^WHSpfimiilKrilTwwww**-'"' 


■~  "  '  '"•nmat^mmmmi 


c.  Prom  the  I 
IS  and  scallops,  I 
ly  were  exten- 

^ble  sea  weed! 


i,<,  V 

^.i 


t  when  meet- 

:  through  thisl 

1-stone  at  thel 
This  head-l 

a  the  summerl 
t. 


CHAPTER  vn. 

The  Sdccbssors— Continued. 

The  principal  market  for  their  products  was  Halifax,  about 
sixty-five  or  seventy  miles  away.    Two  or  three  times  a  year 
the  trip  to  market  was  made.     If  the  load  was  light,  one  horse 
j  was  used;  if  heavy,  three  to  five  horses  were  driven  tandem. 
The  produce  taken  consisted  of  mutton,  pork,  cheese,   eggs, 
geese,  chickens,  butter,  apples,  hay,  and  dozens  of  pairs  of 
I  socks  and  mittens.    Geese  were  sold  per  piece,  and  chickens  by 
the  pair,  all  cleaned  and  ready  to  cook.     Prices  varied,  but 
!  were  about  5c  to  7c  for  mutton,  50c  for  geese,  and  25c  to  40c 
j  per  pair  for  chickens.    They  brought  back  cotton  cloth,  ribbons, 
thread,  sugar,  silks,  rum  and  molasses.    The  country  stores 
I  kept  a  general  stock  from  shingle  nails  to  West  India  rum. 
The  dry  goods  came  from  England.    The  currency  was  pounds, 
shillings  and  pence,  consisting  of  English  gold,  silver  and  cop- 
per, with  one  pound  and  five  pound  notes  of  paper.    Spanish 
and  French  coins  were  also  in  circulation. 

The  vehicles  used  were  the  "One  Hoss  Shay,"  the  gig,  the 
caracole,  and  later  the  wagonette.  For  hauling  loads  they 
used  the  wagon  and  the  ox-cart.  One  variety  of  the  latter, 
with  broad  wooden  rims  and  no  tire,  was  used  on  the  soft  ground 
of  the  dyke  lands.  To  draw  the  stage  coaches,  four  or  six 
horses  were  used.  The  plows  had  wooden  mould-boards  covered 
with  strips  of  band  iron,  and  the  shares  were  made  and  fitted 
to  the  mould-boards  by  the  blacksmiths.  All  muskets  and 
fowling  pieces  were  flint-locks.  Water  was  drawn  from  the 
wells  by  means  of  the  well-sweep.  Much  of  the  travel  was  on 
horseback,  and  saddle-bags  and  pist<d  holsters  were  in  common 

(41) 


42 


I 


BVANG^UNS. 


use.    In  winter  the  warming-pan,  a  large,  round,  shallow,, 
metal  pan  with  a  metal  cover  and  a  long  handle,  was  fiUed  withL 
live  coals  from  the  fireplace,  and  pushed  between  the  blanket 
to  warm  the  beds  before  retiring. 

These  people  had  a  firm  belief  in  witchcraft,  ghosts,  signs, 
and  charms.    A  black  cat  shut  in  the  oven  and  a  wish  made 


The  "Bore-  of  ifce  TMe.   Height  of  W»?e.  6  ft.  4  In. 

for  some  one  to  come,  would  certainly  bring  the  person  wished 
for.  A  black  cat  put  under  a  tub  would  prevent  any  one  from 
coming.  The  tongs  turned  upside  down  would  bring  the  one 
wished  for. 

A  woman  once  put  a  bUck  cat  under  a  tub,  to  prevent  the 
coming  of  some  one  from  over  the  water.  Such  a  violent 
and  terrible  storm  arose  that  she  became  frightened,  let  the  cat 
out,  and  the  storm  abated  at  once. 


Here 

living  II 

sick  ore 

them. 

to  disap 

with  otl 

hill,  W01 

no  trace 

over  the 

Kinger-i 

One  old 

reason  f( 

ache.    S 

moon,  fi 

seen  ove 

over  the 

be  fulfill 

uQmarri< 

morning 

seeing. 

HaUc 
favorite  t 
future, 
some  su{ 
took  a  hi 
side  of  tt 
these  woi 


and  look< 
would  ce 


'#M 


BVANOBUKB. 


43 


,  round,  shallow,! 
ile,  was  filled  withi 
ween  the  blanket 

aft,  ghosts,  signs, 
and  a  wish  made 


t.4111. 

lie  person  wished 
mt  any  one  from 
ild  bring  the  one 

>,  to  prevent  the 

Such  a  violent 

tened,  let  the  cat 


Here  and  there  were  old  women,  said  to  be  witches.     People 
living  near  them  could  not  get  their  butter  to  come;  cattle  were 
sick  or  chickens  died,  and  of  course  the  old  woman  had  bewitched 
them.     One  old  woman  in  particular,  had  often  been  known 
to  disappear  suddenly,  while  walking  up  a  steep  hill  in  company 
with  others.     Her  companions,  on  proceeding  to  the  top  of  the 
hill,  would  find  her  seated  there  quietly  waiting  for  them,  with 
no  traces  of  effort  or  fatigue.    A  horse-shoe  was  often  placed 
over  the  door,  to  counteract  or  prevent  the  witches'  influence. 
Finger-nails  were  cut  on  Friday  to  prevent  the  toothache. 
One  old  lady,  while  cutting  her  nails  on  that  day,  gave  as  her 
reason  for  so  doing,  that  it  was  a  sure  preventive  of  tooth- 
ache.   She  had  not,  at  that  time,  a  tooth  in  her  head.    The  new 
moon,  first  seen  over  the  right  shoulder,  brought  good  luck; 
seen  over  the  left  shoulder,  it  brought  bad  luck.     When  seen 
over  the  right  shoulder  and  a  wish  made,  the  wish  would  surely 
be  fulfilled.    Among  the  young  people  it  was  said,  that  the  first 
unmarried  person  of  the  opposite  sex,  seen  on  St.  Valentine's 
morning,  would  be  the  future  companion  of  the  person  so 
seeing. 

Hallow-e'en  was  celebrated  in  various  ways.  That  was  the 
favorite  time  for  working  charms,  and  seeking  knowledge  of  the 
future.  Spirits  walked  the  earth  on  that  night,  and  therefore 
some  supernatural  effects  were  to  be  expected.  If  a  young  lady 
took  a  handful  of  hemp  seed,  and  walked  once  around  the  out- 
side of  the  house,  sowing  the  seed  as  she  walked,  and  repeating 
these  words: 

"Hemp  seed,  I  sow  thee. 
Whomsoever  I'm  to  have 
Come  after  me  and  mow  thee, " 

and  looked  over  her  shotilder  as  she  completed  the  circuit,  she 
would  certainly  see  the  mate  of  future  years. 


f 


44 


AVANOBUNS. 


If  yarn,  unwound  from  a  ball  in  the  hand,  be  let  down  a 
well,  a  pull  would  be  felt,  and  the  holder  must  ask  who  it  was; 
in  answer,  a  name  would  be  pronounced  from  the  depths  of  the 

well*  I 

Cabbage  was  migratory  on  Hallowe'en.  From  the  gardens 
of  those  who  had  a  large  quantity,  it  mysteriously  traveled  to 
the  homes  of  the  poor,  who  had  little  or  none.  Gates  changed 
places,  and  other  strange  doings  occurred;  but  no  damage  was 

done  to  property. 

In  fixing  the  time  for  planting  or  sowing,  making  soap, 
and  for  many  other  operations,  strict  attention  was  paid  to  tht 
phases  of  the  moon,  and  much  dependence  placed  upon  choos- 
ing a  favorable  time  according  to  that  luminary. 

A  popular  ghost  story  was  to  the  effect  that  a  ghost  visited 
the  living,  after  they  had  retired  for  the  night,  and  that  a  cold, 
clammy  hand  was  pressed  upon  them,  coming  unexpectedly 
out  of  the  darkness.     Once  a  girl,  a  firm  believer  in  ghosts, 
had  been  listening  to  this,  and  similar  stories  told  around  the 
fireplace  in  the  evening.    She  went  up  to  her  room,  feeUng  | 
very  nervous  and  frightened.    On  getting  into  bed,  she  covered 
up  her  head  in  dread  of  she  knew  not  what.    To  her  horror 
she  felt  a  soft  pressure  on  her  feet.     This  soft  touch  stole  to- 
ward her  head,  gradually  and  silently.    She  tried  to  scream, 
but  could  not.    But,  in  her  agony,  she  at  last  heard,  near  her  | 
head,  a  sound  that  ended  the  trouble.     It  was  the  purring  of 
her  pet  cat.    The  "ghost"  was  at  once  joyfully  recognized. 

At  various  times  and  places,  ghostly  noises  were  heard,  such 
as  groans,  and  the  rattling  of  chains;  but  we  suspect  that  the 
solution  in  each  case  would  have  been  as  simple  as  that  of  the 
ghostly  hand  we  have  just  read  of. 

Many  were  the  stories  of  pirates'  gold  and  Captain  Kidd's 
treasure.  On  the  face  of  the  cliff  at  Blomidon,  a  cave  was  said 
to  exist, that  contained  a  vast  quantity  of  treasure.    Some! 


ven 

era] 

ag 
and 
am 


w 
tl 
fr 

St 


land,  be  let  down  n 
lUSt  ask  who  it  was; 
>m  the  depths  of  the 

From  the  gardens 

teriously  traveled  to 

>ne.    Gates  changed 

but  no  damage  was 

wing,  making  soap, 
ition  was  paid  to  the 
placed  upon  choos- 
iinary. 

t  that  a  ghost  visited 
ight,  and  that  a  cold, 
oming  unexpectedly 
.  believer  in  ghosts, 
^ries  told  around  the 
to  her  room,  feeling 
:  into  bed,  she  covered 
hat.  To  her  horror 
i  soft  touch  stole  to- 
She  tried  to  scream, 
t  last  heard,  near  her 
[t  was  the  purring  of 
>yfuUy  recognized, 
oises  were  heard,  such 
:  we  suspect  that  the 
simple  as  that  of  the 

I  and  Captain  Kidd's 
lidon,  acave  was  said 
r  of  treasure.    Some 


BVANOBUNB. 


45 


venturesome  spirits  tried  to  reach  and  explore  it.  They  returned 
empty  handed,  saying  that  they  found  the  entrance  guarded  by 
a  great  serpent.  This  was  in  summer.  Later  they  went  again, 
and  this  time  said  they  were  driven  back  by  a  skeleton  sentinel, 
armed  with  a  sword  and  a  blunderbuss.    A  third  time  the  effort 


Tbe  pipe  item*  and  pipe  bowls  i 
treme  right  li  from  French  ftppl 
lUop  or  "8ktm"  ■hells.    Tbe  bof 


ripe  bowls  are  from  Acadian  cellars.  Bit  of  wood  at 
rench  apple  tree.  The  three  shells  In  front  are  tbe 
BOkilop  or  "skim"  shells.  Tbe  bottle  completely  cofered  with  basket  work 
wBscoveied  by  Hlomac  Indians.  The  old  Blue  In  center  Is  the  one  mentioned 
In  the  note.    The  other  articles  shown  belonged  to  the  early  settlers  of  the 

Jirovlnoe.   Some  were  bcooRht  from  Scotland  and  England,  and  some  came 
rom  Conneotlont  about  iTBOi    Among  them  are  copper  articles,  bom  spoons 
and  some  very  old  china. 


was  made  by  those  who  knew  the  secret  of  the  difficult  way  to 
the  cave.  This  time  they  took  with  them  a  charm  procured 
from  a  negro  voodoo  doctor,  which  was  proof  against  spirits  or 
snakes.  When  they  neared  the  cave,  they  discovered  an  armed 
party  of  rough  characters  in  ambush  in  the  woods,  ready  to 


1 


46 


BVANOBLINB. 


take  by  force  any  treasure  they  might  secure.  A  third  time 
they  returned  unsuccessful,  and  soon  after  this,  the  cave  was 
hidden,  and  the  path  to  it  carried  away,  by  a  fall  of  rock. 

The  Isle  au  Haut,  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  was  believed  to 
contain  buried  treasure,  but  it  was  asserted  that  when  a  party 
landed  from  a  vessel,  and  began  to  dig  in  a  certain  place,  a 
violent  storm  arose,  which  threatened  to  tear  the  vessel  from 
its  moorings.  When  the  party  rushed  to  the  beach,  the  sea 
and  air  at  once  became  still;  but  upon  their  return  to  their 
digging,  the  same  disturbance  occurred,  and  they  were  forced 
to  abandon  further  effort  for  treasure. 

An  old  man  died,  who  had  been  considered  as  a  blasphemer 
by  the  stricter  church  people.  These  who  watched  with  him 
at  his  death  declared  that  just  as  the  spirit  left  his  body,  a 
3tast,  resembling  a  great  black  dog,  came  from  under  the  bed, 
sprang  through  the  window,  and  vanished  in  the  night. 

At  one  of  the  inns,  numerous  guests  had  refused  to  remain 
a  second  night,  in  a  certain  room  of  the  house.  They  one  and 
all  declared  that  they  heard  a  voice  saying  repeatedly,  "Want 
to  be  shaved?' '  '  'Want  to  be  shaved?"  The  Undlord  investi- 
gated, and  found  that  a  tree  branch,  blown  by  the  wind,  raked 
across  the  window  with  a  noise  that  was  almost  an  exact  re- 
production of  the  words  the  guests  said  they  had  heard. 

An  old  clock,  that  had  been  in  a  certain  family  for  many 
years,  is  said  to  have  foretold  the  death  of  at  least  five  members 
of  that  family,  by  striking  between  the  hours,  with  no  mistake 
in  the  strikes  of  the  foUowing  hour.  This  was  solemnly  as- 
serted by  several  members  of  the  family,  who  said  they  heard  it. 

Suicide  was  almost  unheard  of.  One  case  occurred,  of 
which  we  have  record.  An  old  lady  took  her  own  life;  and, 
according  to  the  old  law,  she  was  buried  where  four  roads  met, 
and  a  stake  was  driven  through  the  body. 

The  young  folks  were  thoroughly  taught  lessons  of  polite- 


BVANGEUNB. 


4T 


e.  A  third  time 
this,  the  cave  was 
I  fall  of  rock. 
y,  was  believed  to 
that  when  a  party 
a  certain  place,  a 
Eur  the  vessel  from 
the  beach,  the  sea 
:ir  return  to  their 
i  they  were  forced 

ed  as  a  blasphemer 
watched  with  him 
irit  left  his  body,  a 
rom  under  the  bed, 
n  the  night. 
I  refused  to  remain 
ise.    They  one  and 
repeatedly,  "Want 
le  landlord  investi- 
by  the  wind,  raked 
Imost  an  exact  re- 
y  had  heard. 
in  family  for  many 
t  least  five  members 
rs,  with  no  mistake 
is  was  solemnly  as- 
lO  said  they  heard  it. 
i  case  occurred,  of 
c  her  own  life;  and, 
lere  four  roads  met, 


ness.  Boys,  on  entering  a  school-room,  bowed  to  their  teacher. 
On  entering  a  room  in  a  house,  or  while  walking  on  the  high- 
way, they  always  bowed  to  their  elders.  Girls,  on  similar 
occasions,  "dropped  a  courtesy."  One  girl,  who  had  been 
thoroughly  drilled  in  these  matters,  was  one  day  walking  on 
the  road,  when  she  met  a  funeral.  Mindful  of  her  training, 
she  stopped,  and  courtesied  to  each  person  in  the  procession. 

Before  leaving  this  chapter  we  will  notice  a  little  story  of 
one  of  the  school-masters  of  the  old  times.  Some  mischievous 
neighboring  boys  poked  a  stick  through  his  pantry  window  at 
night,  knocking  down  a  pile  of  pans.  His  wife,  awakened  by 
the  noise,  called  him  and  told  him  there  were  thieves  in  the 
house.  His  reply  was,  "Ann,  get  the  broom  and  drive  'em 
out. •■—And  immediately  he  resumed  his  sleep. 

NOTBSi      • 

1.  The  author  has  in  his  possession  the  Bible  of  the  old 
lady  who  committed  suicide.     The  book  was  printed  in  1725. 

2.  One  boy,  when  not  quite  14  years  old,  repeatedly  made 
the  trip  to  Halifax  with  his  load  of  produce;  When  we  con- 
sider his  age,  the  value  of  his  load,  the  distance  traveled, 
stopping  at  inns  among  strangers,  the  then  wild  country 
through  which  he  drove,  and  the  great  amount  of  purchases 
made  for  the  return  journey  after  marketing  his  produce,  we 
consider  this  quite  an  achievement. 


i 


ht  lessons  of  polite- 


mm»*>- 


i 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ThB  ACADIANS  AND   ACADIAN   RELICS. 

Many  tales  were  told  regarding  valuables  concealed  by  the 
Acadians.  It  was  declared  by  many  that  descendants  of  the 
French  came  to  the  province  at  various  times,  and  dug  up 
treasure  left  by  their  ancestors.  It  must  be  true,  for  had  they 
not  seen  "with  their  own  eyes"  the  hole  where  the  digging 
was  done?  Much,  if  not  all,  of  this  digging  was  done  by  young 
men  of  the  neighborhood,  who  were  searching  for  the  tiaditional 
wealth  of  the  Acadians.  The  truth  of  the  matter  is  probably 
this:  The  Acadians  were  not  a  wealthy  people.  They  had 
little  or  no  money,  and  but  few  articles  of  value.  If  they  owned 
any  jewelry  it  was  probably  in  the  form  of  heirlooms  of  such 
small  size  that  they  could  easily  be  worn,  or  hidden  in  the 
household  goods  which  they  were  permitted  to  take  away  with 
them.  They  knew  that  they  would  not  return,  and  they  would 
not  be  likely  to  bury  such  articles  as  the  ones  mentioned,  and 
under  such  conditions. 

A  region  that  is  as  important  to  the  student  of  Acadia  and 
its  Acadian  remains  as  any  in  the  valley,  not  excepting  Grand 
Pie,  is  the  country  on  the  north  side  of  the  road  leading  from 
Upper  Canard  to  Upper  Dyke  Village.  Three  or  four  French 
orchards  stood  here,  and  the  remains  of  numerous  French 
cellars  and  wells  prove  the  previous  existence  of  an  Acadian 
settlement  of  considerable  importance.  In  the  old  days,  many 
articles  used  by  the  Acadians  were  found  here.  A  descendant 
of  the  Acadians  came  to  this  region  many  years  ago,  and  made 
careful  inquiry  and  thorough  search  for  an  apple  tree  contain- 
ing some  links  of  a  chain.    He  said  that  his  ancestors  had  left 

(48) 


f/-^i»i  A:  i-»:-,is«-^- J;i;**iH**^'''-'f'  "i^^»^ 


BVANOSLIITS. 


49 


iLICS. 

:oncealed  by  the 
icendants  of  the 
les,  and  dug  up 
ue,  for  had  they 
lere  the  digging 
is  done  by  young 
or  the  tiaditional 
itter  is  probably 
>ple.  They  had 
.  If  they  owned 
eirlooms  of  such 
»r  hidden  in  the 
>  take  away  with 
,  and  they  would 
)  mentioned,  and 

nt  of  Acadia  and 
excepting  Grand 
oad  leading  from 
«  or  four  French 
lumerous  French 
ce  of  an  Acadian 
e  old  days,  many 
e.  A  descendant 
irs  ago,  and  made 
jple  tree  contain- 
ancestors  had  left 


articles  buried  near  this  tree;  and  if  the  tree  were  found  he 
could  find  the  articles  buried,  by  following  directions  handed 
down  to  him.  His  search  was  in  vain;  but  he  found  an  old, 
white-haired  neg^o  who  remembered  the  chopping  of  the  tree. 
He  could  tell  the  orchard  it  was  in,  but  could  not  locate  the 
position  of  the  tree.  He  remembered  the  finding  of  the  chain, 
and  described  it  accurately. 

Some  of  the  old  French  wells  are  still  used.  A  very  old 
Frenchman  lived  in  this  neighborhood  as  late  as  1825.  His 
house  was  said  to  be  one  that  escaped  burning  by  the  English. 
It  is  probable  that  every  Acadian  cellar  (and  some  that  are  not 
Acadian)  has  been  probed  in  the  useless  search  for  valuables. 
Many  a  sturdy  apple  tree  was  undermined  by  the  searchers, 
and  many  articles,  considered  valueless  by  them,  but  of  greatest 
value  to  the  collector  or  student  of  today,  were  lost  or  destroyed. 

Near  Port  Williams,  there  was  a  deep  place  in  the  Comwallis 
river,  into  which,  tradition  tells  us,  the  French  cast  their  valu- 
ables from  the  church.  Another  tradition  is  to  the  effect  that 
the  bell  from  the  church  at  Grand  Pre  was  filled  with  gold 
and  silver  articlt.'f,  and  sunk  in  the  mud  of  the  marshes. 

The  apples  oi  the  Acadians  were  of  both  sweet  and  sour 
varieties.  They  were  not  large  apples,  but  the  trees  yielded 
large  crops. 

The  Acadian  relics  that  are  actually  found  consist  of  a  few 
articles,  most  of  them  rudely  made,  that  tend  to  prove  that 
they  were  used  by  a  people  who  were  poor  as  to  money  or 
articles  of  value;  that  things  of  luxury  were  unknown  to  them; 
and  that  they  toiled  to  cultivate  the  soil,  reclaim  the  marshes, 
and  raise  their  crops  and  herds,  to  supply  themselves  with  food 
and  clothing.  From  the  fields  and  cellars,  are  dug,  from  time 
to  time,  old  ploughshares,  coulters,  spades,  hoes,  axes,  hatchets, 
hammers,  scythes,  pitchforks,  wrought-nails,  bits  of  glass  of  a 
poor  quality,  links  of  chain,  iron  kettles  of  dififerent  sizes,  and 


.^mi 


EST" 


ji* 


50 


KVANOmjNR. 


clay  pipes  and  broken  pipe  stems.  Some  of  these  pipes  bear  the 
name  of  R.  Tippet  as  the  maker.  Who  R.  Tippet  was,  and 
where  the  pipes  were  made,  is  a  question  not  yet  decided. 
Pipes  of  this  same  maker  have  been  found  in  Indian  graves  of 
north-central  New  York,  and  on  Manhattan  Island.  Were  the 
pipes  French,  or  were  they  English? 

If  we  look  on  the  valley  at  the  season  described  by  Long- 
fellow when, 


hm^^amm^',,  i  irliiilliMii 


Relks  taken  from  the  old  French  weU  at  Grand  Pre. 
"Filled  was  the  air  with  a  dreamy  and  magical  light;  and 

the  landscape 
Lay  as  if  new-created  in  all  the  freshness  of  childhood," 

and  see  through  the  ''soft  still  air  the  Basin  of  Minas,"  and 
"the  ships  with  their  wavering  shadows"  lying  at  anchor,  we 
do  not  think  it  strange  that  tales  and  legends  were  numerous 
among  the  Acadians  and  their  successors.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise  with  such  surroundings?  We  have  no  doubt  of  the 
existence  of  such  stories  and  "signs"  as: 

1.  The  finding  of  the  lucky  stone  in  the  nest  of  the 
swallow. 

2.  The  luck  attending  the  finding  of  a  horseshoe. 


pipes  bear  the 
ppet  was,  and 
t  yet  decided, 
lian  graves  of 
id.    Were  the 

ibed  by  Long- 


Pre. 
light;  and 

lildhood." 
>f  Minas,"  and 
at  anchor,  we 
were  numerous 
ow  could  it  be 
lo  doubt  of  the 

;he  nest  of  the 

seshoe. 


BVANGBLINB. 


81 


3.  The  lyoup-garou  or  were- wolf  of  the  forest. 

4.  The  goblin  that  came  in  the  night  to  water  the  horses. 

5.  The   white    L6tiche,    the    ghost    of    the    child    who 
unchristened  died. 

6.  The  talking  of  oxen  in  the  stables  on  Christmas  eve. 

7.  The  curing  of  fever  by  a  spider  shut  in  a  nut  shell. 

8.  The  luck  attending  the  finding  of  a  four  leaved  clover. 

9.  The  signs  of  a  hard  winter,  a.s  foretold  by  the  large  sup- 
ply of  honey  laid  up  by  the  bees,  and  the  unusually  thick  fur 

of  the  foxes. 

"With  whatdoever  else  was  writ  in  the  lore  of  the  village." 
The  lines  of  the  poem  of  Evangeline  containing  the  state- 
ment that 

"At  stated  seasons  the  flood  gates 

Opened,  and  welcomed  the  sea  to  wander  at  will  o'er  the 
meadows," 
have  been  criticized. 

In  the  Cornwallis  valley  it  has  never  been  necessary  to 
admit  the  tides.  When  the  dykes  have  been  broken  by  a  great 
storm,  and  the  salt  water  has  swept  over  the  meadows,  two  or 
three  years  have  elapsed  before  the  grass  fully  recovered  from 
the  effects.  But  there  is  a  foundation  for  the  lines  quoted 
above.  In  the  Chignecto  region  there  are  tracts  of  marsh  lands 
that  do  not  contain  the  ingredients  found  in  the  dyke  lands  of 
other  localities,  and  therefore  their  fertility  does  not  endure. 
To  renew  them  the  sea  is  admitted  at  intervals,  and  by  a  new 
deposit  their  fertility  is  assured  for  another  period. 

Notes  : 

1 .  It  is  interesting  to  note  the  agreement  of  the  implements 
and  articles  mentioned  in  the  poem  with  the  list  of  relics  found. 

2.  Pipes  have  been  found  in  the  Acadian  cellars  in  a  posi- 
tion which  verifies  Longfellow's  line  : 

"Take  from  the  shelf  overhead  thy  pipe  and  the  box  of 
tobacco." 


CHAPTER   IX. 
The  Indians. 

The  native  Indians  of  Nova  Scotia  were  the  Micmacs,  and 
many  members  of  this  tribe  still  live  in  the  province.  The 
early  Micmacs  were  a  warlike  tribe,  wandering  from  place  to 
place,  hunting,  fishing,  or  fighting  with  the  tribes  of  the  main- 
land. 

After  gaining  the  friendship  of  the  Indians,  the  Roman 
Catholic  Missionaries  taught  them  their  religion  and  easily  con- 
verted them  to  Christianity. 

In  Micmac  tradition  the  most  important  character  is  Gloos- 
cap.  His  deeds  and  character,  and  the  veneration  in  which  he 
was  held,  remind  us  most  forcibly  of  the  Hiawatha  of  the  west- 
ern Indians  or  the  Montezuma  of  Mexico.  He  was  a  combina- 
tion of  the  human  and  divine,  and  he  provided  human  conven- 
iences for  his  people  with  omnipotent  power  and  on  a  heroic 
scale.  Minas  Basin  was  his  beaver  pond,  the  dam  being  at 
Cape  Split.  Spencer's  Island  was  his  kettle  turned  upside 
down.  All  animals  were  obedient  to  his  will.  He  could  at 
any  time  call  to  his  side  the  moose,  the  caribou,  the  bear  and 
the  lynx,  and  they  promptly  did  his  errands  and  carried  on  his 
work.  He  controlled  the  elements.  When  his  enemies  assem- 
bled in  great  numbers,  intending  to  overthrow  him,  he  extin- 
guished their  fires,  and  called  to  his  aid  the  armies  of  the  frost, 
so  that  soon  the  hostile  force  was  cold  in  death.  He  possessed 
the  proverbial  Indian  hospitality  to  strangers,  who  were  at  all 
times  welcome  to  his  great  wigwam  on  Partridge  Island. 
Glooscap  made  the  first  man  from  a  tree.  He  gathered  ame- 
thysts from  Blomidon  and  gave  them  to  his  favorites.    While 

(53) 


ill 


I 


.  jjterjBesa  •\-j,Mfii^*>^in^iTm^&^-^it'ti<*imii)saisia/m 


'- ^^3l%<^Ki)Ag^^ 


EVANGEUNB. 


53 


:he  Micmacs,  and 
!  province.  The 
ng  from  place  to 
ribes  of  the  main- 

ians,  the  Roman 
>n  and  easily  con- 

haracter  is  Gloos- 
ation  in  which  he 
vatha  of  the  west- 
le  was  a  combina- 
d  human  conven- 
and  on  a  heroic 
he  dam  being  at 
tie  turned  upside 
ill.  He  could  at 
)ou,  the  bear  and 
ind  carried  on  his 
lis  enemies  assem- 
>w  him,  he  eztin- 
rmies  of  the  frost, 
th.  He  possessed 
s,  who  were  at  all 
Partridge  Island. 
He  gathered  ame- 
favorites.    While 


the  dam  existed,  the  waters  filled  the  AnnapoUs  vaUey .  Becom- 
ing angered  at  the  beavers  who  inhabited  this  pond,  he  struck 
the  dam  with  his  tomahawk,  and  the  blow  split  the  solid  rock, 
as  seen  at  Cape  Split  to  this  day.  He  then  siezed  with  his 
hands  a  large  portion  of  the  dam  and  hurled  it  at  the  beavers. 
This  mass  so  thrown  is  known  today  as  the  Five  Islands.  A 
large  part  of  the  pond  was  drained  by  this  break  in  the  dam, 
and  the  beavers  fled,  to  return  no  more. 

Strange  to  relate,  geologists  support  this  tradition  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  and  teU  us  that  the  waters  did  cover  the  valley, 
until,  by  some  great  upheaval,  they  were  forced  within  their 
present  boundaries.    Glooscap  tamed  the  whale,  and  used  him 
as  a  beast  of  burden.    On  the  back  of  a  whale  he  rode  rapidly 
to  places  far  distant  across  the  waters.     He  dwelt  for  many, 
many  years  on  Partridge  Island,  but  when  the  white  man  came 
he  decided  to  depart.    He  called  together  all  the  birds  and 
animals,  except  the  beavers,  and  gave  them  a  grand  fareweU 
feast.    At  the  close  of  the  feast  he  bade  them  farewell,  and 
departed  in  his  canoe,  in  a  manner  similar  to  the  departure  of 
Hiawatha  and  Montezuma.    After  his  departure,  the  birds  and 
animals  no  longer  undei  stood  one  another,  and  there  was  great 
confusion  and  quarreUng.    The  loons  stUl  call  unceasingly  for 
their  friend,  and  the  owls  cry  "Koo,  Koo,  Skoos!"  "Koo,  Koo, 
Skoos!"— meaning  Oh,  I  am  sorry!    Oh,  I  am  sorry!     But 
Glooscap  will  surely  come  again;  his  kettle  will  be  righted;  his 
dogs,  which  he  turned  to  stone  when  he  departed,  will  be 
caUed  to  life;  his  unbounded  hospitality  will  again  be  dispensed; 
beast,  bird  and  man  will  again  understand  each  other,  and  uni- 
versal peace  and  happiness  will  prevail. 

The  later  Indians  were  not  hostile  to  the  EngUsh-speaking 
settlers,  and  caused  them  but  little  trouble.  They  lived  in 
their  wigwams,  built  of  birch  bark  in  the  summer,  or  of  hem- 
lock bark  and  earth  in  the  winter.    They  sold  to  the  whites 


i 


S4 


BVANGBUNS. 


baskets,  birch-bark  canoes,  toboggans,  snow-shoes,  moccasins 
and  hides.  Many  of  the  articles  made  by  the  squaws  were 
ornamented  with  beads  and  porcupine  quills  of  various  colors. 
They  picked  and  sold  berries  and  other  products  of  the  woods 
and  fields.  When  game  was  plenty  they  brought  flesh,  fish 
and  furs  to  the  settlements. 


Partridge  Island,  tbe  home  of  Olooscap.    Cape  Split  in  tbe  distance  at  left. 

Soon  after  the  coming  of  the  white  man,  small-pox  made 
sad  inroads  among  the  Indians.  Large  numbers  died  of  con- 
sumption, and  any  contagious  disease  seemed  to  take  fierce 
hold  upon  them. 

The  stone  relics  of  the  early  Indians  of  Nova  Scotia  are 
comparatively  scarce.  Here  and  there  are  found  the  rude 
arrow-head  or  spear-head,  and  occasionally  a  stone  implement, 
such  as  a  celt,  axe  or  pestle.  Some  authorities  on  archaeology 
believe  that  most  of  these  larger  stone  articles  were  made  by 
other  and  distant  tribes,  and  were  brought  to  Nova  Scotia  by 


loes,  moccasins 
e  squaws  were 
various  colors. 
ts  of  the  woods 
ught  flesh,  fish 


distance  at  left. 

small-pox  made 
lers  died  of  con- 
d  to  take  fierce 

STova  Scotia  are 
found  the  rude 
tone  implement, 
s  on  archaeology 
»  were  made  by 
Nova  Scotia  by 


BVANGBUNB. 


55 


trade,  or  were  captured  during  one  of  their  occasional  raids  to 
the  mainland. 

When  the  "Eighteen  Hundreds"  were  young  and  few, 
an  Indian  was  accidentally  killed  near  Annapolis.  A  white 
hunter  met  him,  and  jokingly  grasping  his  gun  near  the 
muzzle,  thrust  it  toward  the  Indian  saying,  "Will  /Aa/much 
kill  jfouf"  The  startled  Indian  sprang  to  one  side  to  get  out 
of  the  range  of  the  weapon,  and  in  so  doing  stumbled  and  fell, 
striking  his  head  on  a  sharp  stone.  He  died  at  once  from  the 
effects  of  the  wound  so  inflicted.  The  joker  fled.  The  Indians 
throughout  the  valley  were  greatly  excited  and  threatened 
revenge.  Shortly  after  this  occurrence,  a  lady  with  a  baby  in 
her  arms,  was  sitting  in  her  house  when  the  rest  of  her  family 
were  absent.  Suddenly  and  quietly  the  outer  door  opened, 
and  an  Indian  stepped  into  the  room.  Seeing  that  she  was 
alone,  he  asked  fiercely  "Who  kill  .'um  dat  Ingun  down 
'Napolis  way*"  "lam  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  she.  The 
Indian  then  h'  ^i  long  knife  from  his  belt  and,  advancing 
threateningly,  -i.d  "Me  kill  um  you,  anyway."  At  that 
moment  there  «ub  an  interruption.  A  man  who  lived  with 
the  family,  making  and  mending  shoes  for  them  and  their 
neighbors,  was  working  at  his  trade  in  an  adjoining  room. 
Hearing  the  last  exclamation  of  the  Indian,  he  seized  a  gun 
which  stood  in  the  corner,  and  rushed  out  saying  "I  guess 
I'll  killjfou/' '  The  Indian  darted  out  of  the  door.  The  man 
followed  and  fired,  and  the  Indian  fell.  After  a  moment  he 
rose  slowly  to  his  feet  and,  apparently  unhurt,  ran  like  a 
scared  deer.    They  never  saw  him  again. 

Notes. 

1 .  At  the  western  extremity  of  Partridge  Island  the  visitor 
to  the  summit  may  see  an  excellent  outline  of  an  Indian's  face 
on  the  clifi' wall.    The  likeness  is  rendered  more  startling  by 


a' 

I 


86 


BVANGHUNS. 


the  reddish  color  of  the  rock  of  which  it  is  composed.  This  is 
said  to  be  the  likeness  of  Glooscap;  and  that  stolid  face  looks 
forever  directly  down  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  through  the  gap 
where  the  tides  are  ever  rushing  and  swirling. 

2.    Partridge  Island  is  about  400  feet  high.    [See  Illustra- 
tion.] 

"Then  blest  Acadia!  ever  may  tby  name, 
Like  Britian'B,  be  graven  on  rolls  of  fame; 
If  ay  all  thy  sons,  like  hers,  be  brave  and  fne, 
Possessors  of  her  laws  and  liberty; 
Heirs  of  her  splendor,  science,  pow'r  and  ridll, 
And  through  succeeding  years  her  children  still. 
Then  as  the  sun  with  gentle,  dawning  ray. 
From  night's  dull  bosom  wakes  and  leads  the  day, 
His  course  majestic  keeps,  till  in  the  height 
He  glows  one  blaze  of  pure  ezhaustless  light. 
So  may  thy  years  increase,  thy  glories  rise. 
To  be  the  wonder  of  the  western  skies; 
And  bliss  and  peace  encircle  all  thy  shore. 
Till  sun  and  moon  and  stars  shall  be  no  more." 

Goldsmith, 


LINB. 
1. 

2. 
3. 


6. 


9. 

15. 

18. 

19. 
20. 

22-23. 
24. 
25-26. 
28-29. 
30^1. 


33. 


BVANGBUNB. 


57 


josed.  This  is 
olid  face  looks 
irough  the  gap 

[See  Illustra- 


le; 
1  fnt, 

I  ikiU. 
ren  sdll. 

»y. 

Is  the  day, 
ght 
light, 
iae, 


we, 

>  more." 
Goldsmith, 


K0TB8  AND  REFERENCES. 


LINB. 


1.  nHmeval: — Never  disturbed  by  the  woodman's  axe. 

The  sound  of  the  wind  blowing  through  these  trees  is  very  similar 
to  the  distant  sound  of  the  sutf .  A  light  breeze  causes  a  sound 
resembling  a  whispering. 

2.  These  festoons  of  moss  may  be  seen  today  in  many  of  the  ever- 

green forests  of  N.  S. 

3.  Druids: — Priests,  or  ministers  of  religion,  among  the  ancient 

Celtic  nations  in  Gaul,  Britain  and  Germany.    They  frequent- 
ed or  instructed  in  the  forest,  or  sacrificed  nnder  an  oak. 
Eld: — Old  times,  former  days,  antiquity. 

4.  Harpers:    See  Walter  Scott's  Introduction  to  the  "Lay  of  the 

Last  Minstrel." 
Hoar:    White,  or  grayish  white;  white  with  age. 
6.    Wail:    Loud  lamentation  or  expressi<Mi  of  sorrow. 

Roe:    The  female  deer.    Note  the  condition  of  the  startled  roe 
when  followed  by  huntsman  and  hounds,  as  likened  to  the 
,  condition  of  the  Acadians  when  they  learned  of  their  impend- 

ing fate. 
9.    Thatch:    Straw,  hay,  or  rushes,  used  to  cover  the  roofs  of  build- 
ings for  protection  from  the  elements. 
15.  Grand  Pri:    Grand  Prairie  or  Great  Meadow. 

18.  TVaditioH:    That  which  is  transmitted  orally  from  father  to  son 

or  from  ancestors  to  posterity. 

19.  Aeadie:    See  Chapter  IIL 

20.  See  map  of  N.  S. 
22-23.  See  Chapter  V. 

24.  See  Note  1,  Chapter  IV. 
25-26,  See  Chapter  VIIL 
28-29.   See  Chapter  V. 

30^31 .  See  Chapter  V.    Pitching  a  tent  indicates  an  intention  to  remain. 
Fogs  and  mists  hang  over  the  ocean  all  about  the  coasts  of  N. 
S.,  as  well  as  in  the  nearby  region  of  Newfoundland  and  its 
Banks. 
33.  See  Chapter  V. 


I 


fSj-rSttifp 


i 


58 


KVANGEUNK. 


34. 


38. 
39. 
40. 

41. 


49. 


50. 


62. 
66. 
68. 
70. 
72. 

74. 

76. 

84. 
87. 

91. 
93. 
94. 


96, 


Normandy:    Ancient  province  of  France,  north-western  part. 

People  were  descendents  of  the  ancient  Normans  or  Northmen 

who  settled  there. 

There  were  four  Henries  of  France.     The  reign  of  the  HenriLS 

began  in  1031. 
Vanes:    Indicators  showing  direction  of  the  wind. 
Kirtle:    An  upper  garment;  a  gown;  a  short  jacket;  a  mantle. 
Distaff:    Staflf  for  holding  the  bunch  of  flax  or  wool  from  which 

the  thread  is  drawn  in  spinning  by  hand. 
Looms:    Machines  for  weaving  the  thread  into  cloth. 
Shuttles:    Instruments  for  passing  the  thread  of  the  woof  from 

one  side  of  the  cloth  to  the  other,  between  the  threads  of  the 

warp. 
Angelus:    Angelus  Domini  is  the  name  given  to  the  bell  which 

called  the  people  to  prayer,  in  commemoration  of  the  visit  of 

the  Angel  of  God  to  the  Virgin  Mary.    See  the  picture  called 

"The  Angelus." 
Incense:    A  mixture  of  fragrant  gums,  spices,  etc.,  used  for  pro- 
ducing a  perfume  when  burned.    Used  in  religious  rites  or  as 

an  offering  to  some  deity. 
Stalworth:    Same  as  stalwart. 
See  Chapter  V. 
Kine:    Cows. 

Flagons:    Vessels  with  narrow  mouths,  used  for  liquors. 
Hyssop:    A  plant  whose  leaves  have  an  aromatic  smell  and  a 

warm  pungent  taste. 
Chaplet:    A  string  of  beads  used  in  counting  prayers. 
Missal:    The  Roman  Catholic  mass-book. 
See  Note  1,  Chapter  IV. 

Woodbine:    The  Honeysuckle;  the  Eglantine;  Black  Ivy. 
Penthouse:    A  shed  standing  aslope  from  the  main  wall  or  build- 
ing; a  lean-to. 
Bucket:    Probably  used  with  the  well  sweep. 

Wains:    Wagons. 
Folds:    Enclosures;  pens. 

Seraglio:    The  palace  of  the  Sulten,  inhabited  by  himself,  his 
officers  and  dependents,  and  his  wives. 
,  See  Matthew  XXVI:  74,  75. 


102. 

110. 
111. 


150. 


BVANGBUNB. 


89 


lorth-westeru  part, 
mans  or  Northmen 

;ign  of  the  Henries 


Kriiid. 

110. 

jacket;  a  mantle, 
or  wool  from  which 

to  cloth. 

i  of  the  woof  from 

I  the  threads  of  the 

HI. 

117-18. 
122. 
124. 
126. 

n  to  the  bell  which 
ition  of  the  visit  of 
e  the  picture  called 

128. 
131. 

t,  etc. ,  used  for  pro- 
religious  rites  or  as 

1,35. 
137. 

145. 

for  liquors, 
omatic  smell  and  a 

149. 

;  prayers. 


ne;  Black  Ivy. 

e  main  wall  or  build- 


lited  by  himself,  his 


102.  Weathercocks:  So  called  because  they  were  originally  made  in  the 
form  of  a  cock.  Any  device  to  show  direction  of  the  wind;  a 
vane.    The  little  wooden  windmills  are  meant  here. 

Mutation:    Change  or  alteration. 

Knocker:  An  instrument  fastened  to  a  door,  to  be  used  in  seek- 
ing admittance. 

Patron  Saint:  The  saint  regarded  as  the  protector  of  the  com- 
munity. 

See  Tubal  Cain,  Vulcan,  "The  Village  Blacksmith." 

Plain-song:    An  ecclesiastical  chant. 

See  mention  of  smithy  in  Chapter  V. 

Leather  i  lap:  The  leather  apron  worn  by  blacksmiths  to  guard 
their  clothing  from  sparks. 

The  tire  is  heated  and  placed  on  the  wheel  while  still  hot.  On 
cooling  it  contracts  and  thus  fits  closely  to  the  rim. 

Bellows:  An  instrument  for  forcing  air  through  a  tube  to  blow 
the  fire  in  the  forge. 

In  a  hilly  country,  coasting  is  always  a  popular  winter  sport. 

It  is  said  that  if  the  mother  swallow  finds  that  one  of  her  young 
is  blind,  she  seeks  a  little  stone  on  the  shore  of  the  sea.  This 
stone  she  applies  to  the  blind  eyes,  and  restores  the  sight. 

The  old  proverb  says;  "If  the  sun  shines  on  Saint  Eulalie's  day 
there  will  be  plenty  of  apples,  and  cider  enough."  Saint 
Eulalie's  day  is  Feb.  12th. 

The  Zodiac  is  a  belt  16°  wide,  8°  on  each  side  of  the  ecliptic.  It 
is  divided  into  twelve  so-called  signs,  each  30°  in  length.  Each 
sign  is  indicated  by  picture  of  an  object.  The  three  j«^«* 
of  autumn  are  Libra,  Scorpio,  and  Sagittarius;  or  the  bal- 
ances, the  scorpion,  and  the  archer. 
150.  Birds  of  passage:  Those  which  migrate  to  the  south  in  winter 
and  to  the  north  in  summer.  See  Bryant's  "To  a  Water 
Fowl." 

152.  Refers  to  the  winds  which  prevail  at  the  time  of  the  autumnal 

equinox,  when  the  sun  enters  the  sign  of  Libra,  about  Sept.  22d. 

153.  See  Genesis  XXXII;  24. 

156.   Indian  hunterc:    Micmacs,  Chapter  IX. 
159.  Same  as  our  Indian  Summer. 

All  Saints  Day  is  Nov.  1st. 

See  last  paragraph  of  Chapter  VIII. 


60  BVANGSUmt. 

168.  The  colors  of  the  autumn  leaves. 

170.  Xerxes  found  a  beautiful  plane  tree,  and  became  ao  enamored 
with  it  that  he  adorned  it  with  fine  robes,  necklace  and  jewels, 
and  placed  a  soldier  to  guard  it. 

176.  Heifer:    A  young  cow. 

184.  Regent:  One  who  governs  a  kingdom  daring  the  minority,  ab- 
sence or  disability  of  a  sovereign. 

186.  Late  because  they  could  work  on  the  salt  marshes  only  at  low  tide. 

187.  Briny  hay:    The  so-called  "salt"  hay,  a  grass  Mrhich  grows  on 

land  overflowed  by  the  sea  at  high  tide.  It  is  cut  and  piled 
upon  platforms  in  the  marshes.  After  it  is  thoroughly  dried 
or  "cured"  it  is  hauled  to  the  farm  yards.  The  wagons  or 
carta  used  for  this  work  were  similar  to  those  described  in 
Chapter  VII. 
192.  Udders:  The  milk  glands  of  female  mammals. 
193-4.  Who  that  has  heard  this  sound  can  ever  forget  it? 

205.  Pewter:    An  alloy  consisting  chiefly  of  tin  and  lead. 

206.  Armed  men  are  often  distinguished  at  great  disUnces  by  the 

gleam  of  their  arms  as  the  sun  strikes  them.    The  Federals, 

shut  up  in  Chattanooga,  first  knew  of  the  coming  of  troops  sent 

to  relieve  them,  by  the  gleam  of  their  rifle  barrels  seen  far  over 

the  hills. 
.207.  Carol:    A  song  of  joy  or  exultation. 
213.  The  spinning  wheels  give  out  a  peculiar  humming  sound  when 

in  use. 
Bagpipe:    A  musical  wind  instrument  of  Scotland  and  Ireland. 

The  air  is  pressed  into  the  pipes  from  a  leather  bag.    The  bass 

pipe  is  called  the  </fO«^  and  the  treble  pipe  is  called  the  <rAa»^. 

Thft  "drone"  here  mentioned  is  the  monotonous  sound  which 

comes  from  the  drone. 
217.  The  sound  gives  the  sense.    Note  the  sound  of  the  clock  in  the 

pronunciation  of  the  two  words  "clock  clicked." 
225.  See  Note  2,  Chapter  VIII. 
228.  Harvest  moon:    The  moon  near  the  full  at  the  time  of  harvest, 

or  about  the  autumnal  equinox. 
231.  Ballad:    A  popular,  sentimental  or  narrative  song  in  simple 

verses. 
234.  The  luck  in  horseshoes  is  mentioned  in  Chapters  VII  and  VIII. 

249.  See  historical  account. 


250.  £ 

261.  ( 

263.  i 

2f>l.  2 


273-4. 

275-6. 

280. 


282.  £ 
284.  1 


285.  1 


286. : 

306.  i 

322.  i 

330.  i 

344.  4 

351-2.  ! 

354.  ( 


?'jfe!^0'a&S'*?-«*«/t*^'.«iS»ssJf^^ 


ime  so  enamored 
JiUce  and  jewels, 


the  tninority,  ab- 
et only  at  low  tide, 
i  Vrhich  grows  on 
is  cut  and  piled 
thoroughly  dried 
The  wagons  or 
hose  described  in 


it? 

lead. 

distances  by  the 
XX.  The  Federals, 
ling  of  troops  sent 
rrels  seen  far  over 


iming  sound  when 

land  and  Ireland. 
ler  bag.  The  bass 
called  the  chanter. 
nous  sound  which 

if  the  clock  in  the 
ed." 

e  time  of  harvest, 

e  song  in  simple 
ters  VII  and  VIII. 


BVANOBUNB. 


61 


250. 
261. 
263. 

267. 


27a-4, 

275-6. 

280. 


282. 
284. 


285. 


286. 
306. 
322. 

330. 

344. 

351-2. 
354. 


See  Chapters  IV  and  VIII. 

GUde:    Turf;  soil;  sod. 

Inkhom:  This  may  mean  simply  an  inkstand,  or  a  case  holding 
ink  and  pens. 

Notary:  An  officer  authorized  to  attest  or  certify  deeds,  con- 
tracts and  other  '>.<itings,  usually  under  his  official  seal,  to 
make  them  authentic.    Usually  called  Notary  Public.    See 

line  292. 
See  line  1261. 
Either  Queen  Anne's  or  King  George's  war  is  meant. 

The  story  of  the  were-wolf  is,  according  to  an  old  tradition  of 
Prance  and  various  other  European  countries,  that  certain 
human  beings  have  the  power  to  turn  themselves  into  wolves 
that  they  may  devour  children. 

Some  white,  wild  animal  probably  gave  rise  to  this  story. 

This  legend  is  probably  a  form  of  the  old  story  that  on  Christ- 
mas eve,  the  cattle  in  the  stables  fall  on  their  knees  in  adoration 
of  the  infant  Savior,  as  the  older  legend  says  was  done  in  the 
stable  at  Bethlehem.  If  cattle  are  disturbed  when  lying  down 
they  rise  to  their  hind  feet,  theu  to  their  knees,  and  then 
to  their  front  feet.  On  entering  the  stkble  with  a  dim  light 
the  cattle  might  b«  seen  rising  from  their  knees  in  this  manner, 
•nd  thus  the  story  originated. 

In  England  a  cure  for  ague  was  a  spider  shut  up  in  a  goose  quill 
and  hung  about  the  neck.  In  the  western  states  of  the  Union 
where  ague  was  prevalent,  it  was  said  that  swallowing  a  spider 
would  cure  the  worst  case  of  ague. 

The  four-leaved  clover  is  an  emblem  of  good  luck. 

An  old  Florentine  story.    See  line  522. 

Bronze:  An  alloy  of  copper  with  from  ten  to  thirty  per  cent,  of 
tin.    Sometimes  zinc  is  added. 

Brazen:    Made  of  brass. 

Draughts:  Checkers,  so  named  from  the  drawing  of  the  men 
from  one  square  to  another. 

See  line  1041. 

Curfew:  From  couvre>feu,  or  cover  fire.  In  the  Middle  Ages  a 
bell  was  rung  at  a  certain  hour,  from  seven  to  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening  according  to  the  custom  of  the  place,  warning  all 
honest  people  to  cover  their  fires  and  go  to  bed.  The  Normans 
introduced  this  custom  in  England. 


i 


Ambroiiawas 


62  BVANOBUNB. 

371.   Refers  to  the  influence  of  the  moon  on  the  tidet. 
381.  See  line  1095.    Genews  XXI,  14. 

413.  The  fint  named  ionj<  was  written  in  the  time  of  Henry  IV.    The 
•econd  was  a  song  sung  to  a  tune  played  on  the  chimes  of 

Dunkirk. 
421.   A  drum  beat  sounded  over  the  meadows. 
442.  Solstice  o/summer:    The  time  when  the  sun's  rays  are  vertical 

at  the  Tropic  of  Cancer,  June  2l8t. 
454.  spar:    A  mast,  yard,  boom  or  guff. 
456.    See  Chapter  IV. 

461 .    Chancel:    That  part  of  the  church  where  the  altar  U  pUced. 
466.    Tocsin:    An  alarm  bell. 
470.    Vigils:    Devotional  watching. 
476.  See  Luke  XXIII,  M. 
484.  Ave  Maria;    An  invocation  to  the  Virgin  Mary. 

486.  See  2d  Kings,  II,  11. 

492.   Emblazoned:    Adorned  with  armorial  ensigns. 

498.  Ambrosial:    Delightful  to  the  taste  or  smeU, 
the  food  of  the  gods  of  the  ancienU. 

507.   See  Exodus  XXXIV,  33-35. 

533.  See  Note  2,  Chapter  IV. 

575.   Refluent:    Returning;  ebbing. 

577.  Kelp:  A  sea-weed.  The  ashes  of  kelp  is  used  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  glass.  The  slippery  sea-weed  mentioned  has  smaller 
leaves  than  the  kelp.  It  sometimes  covers  the  rocks  and  gives 
a  very  precarious  footing. 

579.   Leaguer:    The  camp  of  a  besieging  army. 

682.  Nethermost:    Lowest. 

597.  See  Acts  XXVIII.    Melita  is  Malta. 

615.  Titans:  GianU  in  Greek  mythology  who  tried  to  deprive  Saturn 
of  his  power  in  heaven,  but  were  defeated  and  driven  down 
into  Tartarus  by  Jupiter,  who  hurled  thunderbolts  at  them. 

621.   Gleeds:    Burning  coals. 

The  instructions  of  the  governor  to  Winslow  were:    "You  must 

proceed  by  the  most  vigorous  measures  possible,  not  only  in 

compelling  them  to  embark,  but  in  depriving  those  who  shall 

escape  of  all  means  of  shelter  or  support  by  burning  their 

.  houses,  and  by  destroying  everything  that  may  aflford  them  the 

means  of  subsistance  in  the  country." 
See  Chapter  IV. 


657.  V 

660.    i 
(/>7.   1 


670.  J 

672.  1 

674.  ] 

675.  1 

676.  '. 

677.  ] 
(>88.  ' 


705. 


707. 
713. 

721-3. 


732. 
733. 


Henry  IV.    The 
on  the  chimes  of 


rays  are  vertical 
tar  is  placed. 


Ambrosia  was 


in  the  manufac- 
>ned  has  smaller 
c  rocks  and  gives 


to  deprive  Saturn 
ind  driven  down 
bolts  at  them. 

rere:  "You  must 
ible,  not  only  in 
ig  those  who  shall 
by  burning  their 
sy  afford  them  the 


EVANOKLINK. 


6» 


657. 

M). 
(/i7. 

670. 
672. 

674. 
675. 
676. 

677. 

(,88. 


705. 


707. 
713. 

721-3. 


732 
733 


/?<•//.•  The  Ifll  tolled  to  mark  thi  passage  of  the  soul  to  the  other 
world. 

/iook:    The  service  book. 

Dirges:    Funeral  hymns. 

They  sailed  with  the  falling  tide  because  they  could  then  pass 
Cape  Split  with  the  current.  Sailing  vessels  never  attempt 
that  passage  against  the  tide. 

See  Chapter  IV. 

The  almost  perpetual  fogs  of  this  region  are  probably  due  to  the 
meeting  of  the  warm  Gulf  Stream  and  the  cold  Arctic  Current. 

From  the  Great  Lakes  to  the  Gulf  States. 

From  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi. 

The  Mississippi  often  washes  away  its  banks  so  that  a  new 
channel  is  formed  during  a  single  Bood.    See  Kaska-skia. 

Bones  of  great  extinct  animals  are  found  at  various  places  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley. 

The  trail  leading  to  California  through  what  was  called  the  Great 
American  Desert,  was  marked  by  the  bones  of  thousands  of 
cattle,  mostly  oxen,  that  died  of  thirst.  At  camping  places  the 
wiak  or  worn  out  animals  were  often  shot  to  end  their  misery. 

Coureurs-des-bois:  Men  who  accompanied  the  early  fur  traders  of 
the  north-west.  They  paddled  the  canoes,  carried  the  goods  and 
canoes  at  the  portages,  and  assisted  to  gather  in  the  furs  from 
the  Indians.  They  were  French  or  half-breeds.  By  living  long 
among  the  Indians  they  acquired  many  of  the  Indian  customs. 
Parkman's  "Conspiracy  of  Poniiac,"  and  "Discovery  of  the 
Great  West"  contain  many  references  to  these  men. 
Voyagcur:    A  river  boatman. 

Saint  Catherine  of  Alexandria  and  Saint  Catherine  of  Siena  were 
both  celebrated  for  their  vows  of  virginity.     Hence  the  saying, 
meaning  one  devoted  to  a  single  life. 
Refers  to  the  ceaseless  round  of  the  moisture  which  rises  from 
the  sea  by  evaporation,  is  carried  over  the  land  in  the  form  of 
clouds,  falls  in  the  form  of  rain,  sinks  into  the  earth,  comes  to 
the  surface  in  the  springs,  thence  to  the  brook  and  the  river, 
and  finally  to  the  sea,  where  the  journey  begins  again. 
Shards:    Fragments  of  earthen  vessels. 
Muse:    A  genius  of  art,  literature  or  music. 
Essay:    Endeavor;  try. 


I 


I 


i 


64 


738. 

741. 

742. 
741. 

750. 


755. 
7%. 
757. 
758. 
7Si 


761. 

764. 

766. 
769. 
782. 
78  J. 

784. 

786-7, 
803. 
807, 


BVANOBLINB. 

Sy/van:    Forertlikv;  pertainiog  to  the  woodi.   8«e  mesning  of 

PeniiBylvaitia;  Selva*.    See  line  1253. 

The  Indians  named  this  river  the  Ohio  or  Beautiful  River.    Oo 

the  earliest  maps  the  latter  name  was  applied  to  it. 
See  map  of  U.  S. 

Golden:  Below  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  the  waters  of  the 
Mississippi  have  a  yellow  tinge  caused  \>y  the  yellow  clay 
brought  by  the  Missouri. 

Between  the  first  of  January  and  the  13th  of  May,  1765,  about 
six  hundred  fifty  Acadians  had  arrived  at  New  Orleans.  Lou- 
isiana bad  been  ceded  by  France  to  Spain  in  1762,  but  did  not 
really  pass  under  the  control  of  the  Spanish  until  1769.  The 
existence  of  a  French  population  attracted  the  wandering 
Acadians,  and  they  were  sent  by  the  authorities  to  form  set- 
tlements in  Attakapas  and  Opelousas.  They  afterward  formed 
settlements  oti  both  sides  of  the  Mississippi  from  the  German 
Coast  up  to  Baton  Rougt,  and  even  as  high  as  Point  Coupee. 
Hence  the  name  of  Acadian  Coast,  which  a  portion  of  the 
banks  of  the  river  still  heM^i.—Gayarre's  Hislory  of  Louisiana. 

Chute:    A  rapid  descent  of  the  river. 

Probably  cotton-wood  trees  are  meant. 

Lagoons:    Shallow  ponds  or  lakes. 

iVimpting:    Rippling  or  undulating. 

J^licans:  Web-footed  waler-fowl,  larger  than  swans,  having  au 
enormous  bill,  to  the  lower  edge  of  which  is  attached  a  pouch 
capable  of  holding  many  quarts. 

Perhaps  the  sweet  orange  is  meant,  as  this  was  called  the  China 
orange. 

Goiden  Coast:    A  portion  of  the  shore  of  the  river. 

Cttron:    The  tree  which  produces  th?  .;itron  of  commerce. 

A  bayou  on  the  west  side  of  the  river. 

Tenebrous:    Dark;  gloomy:  dusky. 

Mimosa:    The  sensitive  plant. 

Possibly  the  reference  is  to  the  "Pale  horse  and  his  rider."  Sec 
Rev.  VI,  8. 

Stroke  of  doom:  The  final  calamity.  The  culmination  of  fat* 
or  destiny. 

See  lines  700,  1145, 1244. 

Desert:    Here  means  a  wilderness;  a  solitude. 

Lakes  formed  by  a  broadeniug  of  th^  river. 


816. 

819. 

820. 

621-2. 

837. 

840. 
842. 

843. 


853. 


856. 
865. 


868-9. 
871. 
878. 
885. 
889. 


890. 
914. 
924. 
953. 
956. 

961. 
970. 
978. 


felf^SSfefiefjfe'- 


3«e  mesning  of 

816. 

iful  River.    Oo 

819. 

oil. 

820. 

821-2. 

e  waters  of  the 

837. 

he  yellow  clay 

840. 

ay,  1765,  about 

842. 

Orleans.    Lou- 

762,  but  did  not 

843. 

ntil  1760.    The 

the  wandering 

iea  to  form  aet- 

853. 

fterward  formed 

om  the  German 

)  Point  Coupee. 

a  portion  of  the 

856. 

^y  of  Louisiana. 

865. 

868-9. 

871. 

want,  having  au 

878. 

ttached  a  pouch 

Has. 

889. 

Ailed  the  China 

er. 

ommerce. 

890. 

914. 

924. 

953. 

his  rider."    Sec 

956. 

mina^ion  of  fat^ 

961. 

970. 

978. 

SVANOKtINS. 


65 


Waahita  or  Ouachita  waa  the  Indian  name  for  the  male  deer. 

The  deer  fed  on  the  tender  twiga  of  this  willow. 
Copt:    Anything  extending  over  the  head. 
Trumpet  flower;    The  trumpet  honeysuckle. 
See  Genesis  XXVIII,  10-12. 

Palmelto:    A  species  of  palm  tree  growing  in  southern  states. 
See  arms  of  State  of  S.  C. 
Refers  to  821-4. 
Tholes:    Pins  in  the  gunwale  of  a  boat  to  keep  the  oars  in  the 

row-lock. 
Trance:    A  stnte  in  which  the  soul  seems  to  have  passed  out  of 

the  body  into  another  state  of  being,  or  to  be  wrapped  into 

visions. 
Buoy;    A  float;  used  to  mark  channels,  rocks  or  shoals.    When 

a  ship  leaves  her  anchorage  intending  to  return  soon,  the  cable 

of  the  anchor  is  fastened  to  a  buoy,  thus  saving  the  labor  of 

hoisting  and  casting  the  heavy  anchor, 
Teche  (tesh)  :    A  navigable  bayou  of  I^a. 
Magician;    A  conjurer. 
IVand:    A  rod  used  by  conjurers/  supposed  to  possess  magical 

charms. 
See  line  11. 
See  line  865. 

Bacchantes:    Devotees  of  Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine. 
Amber;    Resembling  amber  in  color;  yellowish. 
Mistletoe:    A  parasitic  evergreen  plant  bearing  a  glutinous  fruit. 

A  variety  grows  in  the  southern  states.     When  found  upon  the 

oak,  where  it  is  rare,  it  was  an  object  of  superstitious  regard 

among  the  Druids. 
Yule-tide:    Christmas  time. 
Sombrero:    A  kind  of  broad  brimmed  hat 
See  line  635. 

Ozark  Mts.;    Low  mountains  of  southern  Missouri. 
Fates;    The  three  goddesses  who  were  supposed  to  determine 

the  course  of  human  life. 

Olympus:    A  mountain  of  Ancient  Greece,  the  abode  of  the  gods. 
Ci-devant:    Former;  previous. 


In  tropical  regions  there  is  little  or  no  twilight, 
line  with  172  and  574-5. 


Coutras!:  '.h\a 


60  EVANGEUNB. 

984.  Natchitoches:    A  parish  of  N.  W.  La. 
988-9.   Refer  to  the  cold  climate  and  stony  soil  of  Nova  Scotia. 
991-2.  A  very  strong  hyperbole. 
1006.  See  page  285, 

1009.  Creoles:    People  bom  in  America  or  the  West  Indies,  of  Euro- 
pean ancestors.    It  is  also  applied  to  anyone  born  within  the 
tropics. 
1019.   See  line  415. 

1033.   Carthusian:    A  monk  of  the  Carthusian  order,  which  is  the  strict- 
est and  most  severe  in  its  rules  of  all  religious  societies. 
One  of  its  rules  enforces  almost  perpetual  silence.    The  monks 
talk  together  but  once  a  week. 
1041    See  line  352. 

1044.  *'Upharsin:"    See  Daniel  V.    "The  handwriting  on  the  wall." 
1054.   See  line  627. 

1057.   Oracular:    From  oracle,  an   answer  from  a  god  among  the 
heathen  to  an  inquiry  made. 
1060-1.   Probable  reference  to  Luke  VII,  37-38. 

1063.  See  Luke  XV,  11-32. 

1064.  See  Matthew  XXV,  1-13. 

1075.   Garrulous:    Indulging  in  long  prosy  talk;  loquacious. 
1082.    Oregon:    The  Columbia  river. 

Wallevmy:    Probably  the  Walla  Walla,  which  flows  into  the 

Columbia  at  Wallulu  in  Washington. 
Owyhee:    Kiver  350  miles  long.    Rises  in  N.  Nevada  and  flows 
into  the  Snake  River. 
1083-4.  See  map  of  northwestern  states. 
1091.  Amorpha:    False  indigo.    One  variety  is  called  the /«?«<///««/. 
The  flowers  are  violet  or  purple  in  terminal  spikes. 

1094.  Prairie  fires. 

1095.  Se   line  381.    The  Arabs  are  supposed  to  be  the  descendants  of 

Ishmael.     Hence  any  wandering  people. 

1097.  The  turkey-buzzard. 

1098.  Implacable:    Relentless;  irreconcilable. 
1102.    Taciturn:    Silent;  reserved. 

Anchorite:    An  anchorite  is  a  hermit  or  recluse;  used  here  as  an 
adjective. 
1106.  The  geography  here  is  ratlier  vague.    The  region  of  the  Columbia 
is  so  far  from  the  Ozarks  that  it  can  hardly  be  called  the  same 
"land." 


Ill 


in 


112 


ii:; 

1140- 
11( 

Hi 

121 


1217- 

12: 


Scotia. 


Indies,  of  Euro- 
born  within  the 


vhichistheitrict- 

s  societies. 

ice.    The  monks    i 


Bg  on  tile  wall." 
god  among  the 


1114. 


1119. 


uacious. 

h  flows  into  the 

Nevada  and  flows 

1124. 

d  the  lead  plant. 
kes. 

1140-5. 
1167. 

he  descendants  of 

1182. 
1211. 

.'     . 

1217-21 

le;  used  here  as  an 

1226. 

on  of  the  Columbia 

be  called  the  same 

1120. 


BVANOBUNB. 


67 


Fata  Morgana:  The  Italian  name  applied  to  a  phenomenon 
seen  in  the  straits  of  Messina,  and  consisting  of  an  appearance 
in  the  air  over  the  sea  of  the  <  bjects  upon  the  neighboring 
coasts.  In  the  southwest  of  the  United  States,  the  mirage  is 
often  seen;  lakes  and  streams  and  trees  are  seen  by  the  travel- 
ler, but  they  exist  only  in  his  vision  of  the  strata  of  air  of 
different  densities. 

Shawnee:  A  member  of  the  tribe  of  that  name.  The  Shawnees 
were  of  the  Algonquin  family.  Some  writers  consider  them  as 
originally  identical  with  the  Kickapoos.  They  are  first  men- 
tioned in  history  as  being  on  the  banks  of  the  Fox  river  in 
Wisconsin,  in  1648.  They  engaged  in  war  with  the  Iroquois  and 
most  of  them  were  driven  southward  to  the  Cumberland  river, 
whence  they  dispersed,  some  going  to  Florida,  others  to  North 
Carolina,  and  several  bands  to  Pennsylvania.  About  1795  a 
portion  of  this  tribe  settled  in  Missouri  under  the  protection  of 
the  Spanish  authorities.  Shawnees  were  engaged  in  the  con- 
spiracy of  Pontiac.  They  fought  against  Harmer,  St.  Clair  and 
Wayne.    They  were  at  Tippecanoe  and   the  battle  of  the 

Thames. 
Camanches:  Spelled  also  Comanches.  A  warlike  tribe  of  no- 
madic savages  who  roamed  over  a  part  of  New  Mexico  and  in 
the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande.  Their  principal  occupations 
were  robbery  and  war.  They  fought  on  horseback.  They 
were  probably  of  the  same  stock  as  the  Shoshones  or  Snake 

Indians. 

Venison:    Flesh  of  the  deer. 

The  tales  remind  us  of  the  stories  in  "Hiawatha." 

The  Jesuit  missionaries  were  called  the  "Black  Robes,"  from 
their  long  cloaks  or  habits. 

Susurrus:    Whisper. 

Cloisters:  A  monastic  establishment;  a  covered  arcade  forming 
part  of  a  monastic  establishment. 

Mendicant:    Begging;  poor. 

.  Compass  flower:  Our  common  resin  weed.  The  edges  of  the 
btt»d  lower  leaves  always  stand  to  the  north  and  south. 

Asphodel:  A  perennial  plant  of  the  genus  Asphodelus,  cultivat- 
ed for  the  beauty  of  its  flowers.    Called  also  •  'king's  spear. ' ' 

Nepenthe:  A  drug  used  by  the  ancients  to  relieve  pain;  sup- 
posed to  have  been  opium  or  hashish. 


|ijiiipnw@ff!t^^ww*"*^^ 


L 


68 


BVANGBUNB. 


1129. 
1233. 
1234. 
1241. 


1242. 
1244. 
1253. 

1256. 

1257. 


Wold:    A  plain;  a  country  without  woods. 

See  map  of  Michigan. 

The  Great  Iiakes. 

Moravian:  The  Moravian  church  is  the  church  of  the  United 
Brethren.  In  the  15th  and  16th  centuries  Moravia  was  one  of 
its  principal  seats.  It  originated  in  Moravia  and  Bohemia, 
about  1457.  They  were  established  in  this  country  and  early 
sent  their  missionaries  to  and  settled  in  the  Great  West. 

Tents  of  Grace:    Gnadenhutten. 

Armies  of  the  Revolution. 

Notice  the  repeated  use  of  the  word  phaniom. 

Origin  of  the  word  Pennsylvania.    Sylvan,  or  forest  land  of 

Penn. 
The  principal  streets  of  Philadelphia,  running  east  and  west,  are 
named  for  the  trees  of  the  forest;  as.  Oak,  Elm,  Chestnut,  etc. 

Female  deities  who  presided 


1282. 
1292 


Dryads:    Njrmphs  of  the  woods, 
over  the  woods. 
1261.  See  lines  273-4. 

1264.  The  Quakers  make  much  use  of  the   ancient  or  solemn  form  in 
their  speech. 

Abnegation:    Denial;  renunciation. 

In  the  early  days  watchmen  patrolled  the  city  at  night  and  called 
the  hours.  At  midnight  his  call  would  be  "Twelve  o'clock 
and  all's  well. "  When,  during  the  Revolution,  a  courier  rode 
into  Philadelphia  with  a  certain  important  message,  the  watch- 
men on  their  rounds  shouted  "Twelve  o'clock,  and  Comwallis 
is  taken." 

From  the  settlement  of  Germantown,  then  some  distance  out- 
side the  city. 

Philadelphia  was  visited  by  the  ttrrihXt  pestilence  otytWon  fever 
in  1793. 

The  old  Friend's  almshouse  which  stood  on  Walnut  street  has 
been  pointed  out  as  the  scene  of  Evangeline's  ministering  and 
of  her  meeting  with  Gabriel. 
See  line  106. 

The  New  Jerusalem  as  described  in  Revelations. 
1328.  The  old  Swedes  church  at  Wicaa>  was  begun  in  1698.    Wilson 
the  ornithologist  is  buried  in  iU  churchyara. 

See  Exodus  XII,  3-14. 

See  Introductory  and  Chapter  VI. 

See  Chapter  IV. 

The  poem  of  Evangeline  was  published  in  1847. 


12%. 


1298. 


1308. 


1314-16, 
1318. 


1355-6 
1390-1 
1392-7 


,  of  the  United 
avia  was  one  of 
and  Bohemia, 
mtry  and  early 
at  West. 


forest  land  of 

Bt  and  west,  are 
,  Chestnut,  etc. 
:s  who  presided 


solemn  form  in 

night  and  called 
Twelve  o'clock 
,  a  courier  rode 
lage,  the  watch- 
and  Comwallis 

e  distance  out- 

f  of  yellow  fever 

tlnut  street  has 
ministering  and 


11696.    Wilson 


BVANGTT..rra. 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY 

OP  PROPER  NAMES  AND  FOREIGN  WORDS 
EVANGELINE. 


IN 


Th«  diieritlcal  mRrk*  given  below  tn  thoae  found  in  the  latest  edition  of  Wdh 
■ter'e  loternational  Dictionaiy. 


EXPLANATION  OF  MARKS. 

A  Dull  (*)  kbore  the  vowel  denote*  tlie  \oag  sound. 
A  Curve  (")  nbove  the  vowel  denotes  the  t  hort  sound. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  C^)  ubove  the  vowels  a  or  u  denotes  the  sound  of  •  in  cStVt 
or  of  u  in  iQrii ;  nbove  the  vowel  o  it  denctes  tlie  sound  of  o  in  Orik 
A  Dot  (' )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  >u  paai.. 
A  Double  Dot  (")  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  iwund  of  a  in  ctAr.  - 
A  Double  Dot  (.,)  below  the  vowel  u  denotes  the  sound  of  u  in  tr|i<i 
A  Wave  (")  above  the  vowel  •  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  hSr. 

S  sounds  like  i. 
f  sounds  like  s. 
t  sounds  like  J. 
t,  t,  t  are  similar  in  sound  to  I,  S,  B,  l-"t  are  not  pronounced  so  lonf. 

Note  that  the  pronunciation  of  French  words  can  be  given  only  approximately 
by  means  of  signs  and  English  equivalents.  A  living  teacher  is  xequisite  to  eaabl* 
one  to  read  and  speak  the  language  with  elegance. 


AVM  Ouillaume  Thomas  Frsnci*  Biqmal 

(ib-bS'gt-ySm'.ete.). 
Acadie  (k-klMi'). 
XceS'dT&. 
idl'yea. 
Aelian  (SnT-ln). 

Alx-la4:hapelle  (iks-IK^hK-pSlO- 
Amotphaa  (A-mOrTis). 
Angelua  Domini  (In'jt-lQs  dSml-ni). 
Arct'dia. 

asphodel  (Ss'fS-dn). 
Atehafatoya  (leh-i-fA-n'A). 
Attakapa*  (XUBk'i-paw). 
Bacchantes  (ba-klnOli). 
Baecliw(blkni»). 


Beau  Sdjonr  (bS  d-xhSSrO. 

BSntdlf'Ttt. 

BSn'edlct  BSUefSntane'. 

BIBmTdBn. 

Briarens  (br{'&-r&s). 

Brages  (bri^h). 

CViUV. 

CImlii'ch!|. 

CSnIird'. 

Cape  Brit^Bo. 

9a'tTe. 

Cbarente  Inferieure  (shlr4ahV  liih<lt- 

r84!r'). 
Chamisay  (shKr-nT-sSO. 
Chattnus  (shltr-tii'). 


^Si 


BVANOBUNB. 


CoUlle'. 

oouraur»dM-boU  (kBytlr-dX-bwX), 

Contet  FopuliafM  (keDht  ySp-n-UiO' 

Mj«n-feu  (k«y»r.l8). 

Daato**  Divio*  Commtdia  (dI-*l'D* 

cSaMnPdI-ft). 
Dttcauroi  (dii-kS-rwH^). 
EvIu'telTu*. 
rVU  MOrglf ■>*• 
PUber  Felieiaa  (tttfihntm). 
roDUiM4|ul-bout  (lOnlitin-kS-Mb). 
Oabrfal  Lajeunene  (m-tlit-uia'). 
OupeNMi  (gitt-pS-rO'). 

OnadMibttttan  (giiK^ii-hHt'So). 

OniMl-Pr«  (gtVoh-prS'). 

BtrOdttD*. 

HocM  HellmleM  (blKri  hn-Unnt-il). 

IsMe  da  BatiUi  (di  rK-ii-yS'). 

lUvaiMgli  (kl*'i-ut). 

Uk  CM  du  C«TWu>  (U  UI  dn  kK-vO'X 

La  Oain  Udn  (U  gtU^i*  Uf dri). 

UHKra. 

LK  Sidle, 

Le  CariUoB  d*  DuakwqM  (HI  klr4> 

yttah'didiin-kirk'). 
LtUclia  (UMMiO- 
UUnwi  fIVIT-nB). 
Louitbatf  QSVT-barg). 
LoupiPHroa  (MS^Sr-fifiO. 
Bwhn  da  elupaUe  {uifU  M  Oilt^a/). 
lbVU(ml-I«^)- 
Mhiw  Buln  (mWUi  bMto). 


HatebttoelMa  (aRek148ik). 

ntpCntlit. 

OpeleuiM  (itp4-Uiyifa). 

Outra-Mar  (SHr-mii^ 

Owybca. 

PluftmAquBd'dy. 

nam  C^ielle  ipMi' kS-pOO- 

FIi^quTd. 

Plaquamine,  Bayou  «{(pllk-mlii',  WO). 

Pluquat  ipIn-kiO- 

Pointe  Couptie  (pwlnht  k<»-pl'). 

Pqitou  (pwK-tSB'). 

Itoii«  UbIaiM  (rS-nS'  nMdlohkfV 

RoclieUa  (r^sliniO. 

R(»iini(r8*4i'iit). 

St.  Haur  (Onh  nSrO- 

Saintonge  (duh'tSiihihOk 

BIm'idu  KgiaUfOt, 

aaragUo  (kt-rlfyS). 

Siena  (iS-Puft). 

Silpbium  laciniatoa  (iTVfT-Bm  IMTa-t* 

S'tBm). 
StraiU  o(  MeMina  (mb-if n*). 
Ticba(tisli). 

Tout  lea  Bourgaott  da  Chaiteaa  (OT  II 
bBSrihwIi^  dS  ■hKttr). 

Vphania  (S-nr'iTu). 

Utreelit  (Q'trinct). 

Vendte  (viiulHlS^ 

voyageuT  (v  wll-yll-ihb»). 

WacMU(weib^-U»). 

Wallaway  (wSUt-wI). 

wita-woM. 

WicacoCwS-klCkB). 

ZinM(airka«)i 


Th 

I 
Bearc 

t 

Stanc 

Stan^ 
t 

Loud 
1 

Speal 


Th 
1 

Leap 
1 

Whe; 


Men 


Dark 


BO. 

•mill',  vnt). 
k-p"'). 

hihkf). 


r-Bm  IMTa-t' 

'a*). 

MteM(tniS 


BVANGBLINB. 


69 


EVANGELINE. 


PRELUDE. 

This  is  the  forest  primeval.  The  murmuring 
pines  and  the  hemlocks, 

Bearded  with  moss,  and  in  garments  green,  indis- 
tinct in  the  twilight. 

Stand  like  Druids  of  eld,  with  voices  sad  and  pro- 
phetic, 

Stand  like  harpers  hoar,  with  beards  that  rest  on 
their  bosoms. 

Loud  from  its  rocky  caverns,  the  deep-voiced  neigh- 
boring ocean 

Speaks,  and  in  accents  disconsolate  answers  the  wail 
of  the  forest. 

This  is  the  forest  primeval;  but  where  are  the 
hearts  that  beneath  it 

Leaped  like  the  roe,  when  he  hears  in  the  woodland 
the  voice  of  the  huntsman? 

Where  is  the  thatch-roofed  village,  the  home  of  Aca- 
dian farmers — 

Men  whose  lives  glided  on  like  rivers  that  water  the 
woodlands. 

Darkened  by  shadows  of  earth,  but  reflecting  an  image 
of  heaven? 


.J- 


70 


BVANGBUNA. 


Waste  are  those  pleasant  farms,  and  the  farmers  for- 
ever departed! 

Scattered  like  dust  and  leaves,  when  the  mighty 
blasts  of  October 

Seize  them,  and  whirl  them  aloft,  and  sprinkle  them 
far  o'er  the  ocean. 

Naught  but  tradition  remains  of  the  beautiful  village 
ofGrand-Pre.  *' 

Ye  who  believe  in  affection  that  hopes,  and  endures, 
and  is  patient, 

Ye  who  believe  in  the  bef^uty  and  strength  of  wo- 
man's devotion. 

List  to  the  mournful  tradition  still  sung  by  the  pines 
of  the  forest; 

List  to  a  Tale  of  Love  in  Acadie,  home  of  the  happy. 


PART  THE  FIRST. 
I. 

In  the  Acadian  land,  on  the  shores  of  the  Basin  of 

Minas,  " 

Distant,  secluded,  still,  the  little  village  of  Grand- 

Pre 
Lay  in  the  fruitful  valley.    Vast  meadows  stretched 

to  the  eastward. 
Giving  the  village  its  name  and  pasture  to  flocks 

without  number. 
Dikes,  that  the  hands  of  th^  farmers  had  raised  with 

labor  incessant. 
Shut  out  the  turbulent  tides;  but  at  stated  seasons 

the  flood-gates  " 

Opened  and  welcomed  the  sea  to  wander  at  will  o'er 

the  meadows. 


armers  for- 
he  mighty 
inkle  them 
iful  village 

16 

d  endures, 
gfth  of  wo- 
^  the  pines 
the  happy. 


PA  tMtmvmmamtm 


nmHrvm-^mgtWfvvii*^ 


lie  Basin  of 
so 

of  Grand- 
5  stretched 
e  to  flocks 
raised  with 
;ed  seasons 
at  will  o'er 


EVANGEtlNE. 


71 


West  and  south  there  were  fields  of  flax,  and  orchards 

and  cornfields 
Spreading  afar  and  unfenced  o'er  the  plain;  and  away 

to  the  northward 
Blomidon  rose,  and  the  forests  old,  and  aloft  on  the 

mountains 
Sea-fogs  pitched  their  tents,  and  mists  from  the  mighty 

Atlantic  * 

Looked  on  the  happy  valley,  but  ne'er  from  their  sta- 
tion descended. 
There,  in  the  midst  of  its  farms,  reposed  the  Acadian 

village. 
Strongly  built  were  the  houses,  with  frames  of  oak 

and  of  hemlock, 
Such  as  the  peasants  of  Normandy  built  in  the  reign 

of  the  Henries. 
Thatched  were  the  roofs,  with  dormer-windows;  and 

gables  projecting  " 

Over  the  basement  below  protected  and  shaded  the 

doorway.   . 
There  in  the  tranquil  evenings  of  summer,  when 

brightly  the  sunset 
Lighted  the  village  street,  and  gilded  the  vanes  on 

the  chimneys, 
Matrons  and  maidens  sat  in  snow-white  caps  and  in 

kirtles 
Scarlet  and  blue  and  green,  with  distafls  spinning 

the  golden  *" 

Flax  for  the  gossiping  looms,  whose  noisy  shuttles 

within  doors 
Mingled  their  sound  with  the  whir  of  the  wheels  and 

the  songs  of  the  maidens. 


72 


BVANOBLINB. 


4» 


Solemnly  down  the  street  came  the  parish  priest,  and 

the  children 
Paused  in  their  play  to  kiss  the  hand  he  extended  to 

bless  them. 
Reverend  walked  he  among  them ;  and  up  rose  ma 

trons  and  maidens, 
Hailing  his  slow  approach  with  words  of  affectionate 

welcome. 
Then  came  the  laborers  home  from  the  field,  and  se- 
renely the  sun  sank 
Down  to  his  rest,  and  twilight  prevailed.    Anon  from 

the  belfry 
Softly  the  Angelus  sounded,  and  over  the  roofs  of 

the  village 
Columns  of  pale  blue  smoke,  like  clouds  of  incense 

ascending,  *' 

Rose  from  a  hundred  hearths,  the  homes  of  peace  and 

contentment. 
Thus  dwelt  together  in  love  these  simple  Acadian 

farmers, — 
Dwelt  in  the  love  of  God  and  of  man.     Alike  were 

they  free  from 
Fear,  that  reigns  with  the  tyrant,  and  envy,  the  vice 

of  republics. 
Neither  locks  had  they  to  their  doors,  nor  bars  to 

their  windows ;  " 

But  their  dwellings  were  open  as  day  and  the  hearts 

of  the  owners; 
There  the  richest  was  poor,  and  the  poorest  lived  in 

abundance. 

Somewhat  apart  from  the  village,  and  nearer  the 
Basin  of  Minas, 


Benedi 

Gi 
Dwelt  ( 

hi 
Gentle 

th 
Stalwo 

wi 
Heart} 

sn 
White 

br 
Fair  v 

su 
Black 

th 

Black, 
si 

Sweet 
in 

When 

n< 
Flagot 

tl 
Fairer 

fr 
Sprinl 

hi 
Sprinl 

u; 
Down 

h 


1 


BVANOBUNS. 


73 


L  priest,  and 
extended  to 
ap  rose  ma- 

4<'> 

afifectionate 
eld,  and  se- 
Anon  from 
lie  roofs  of 
)  of  incense 

80 

)f  peace  and 
)le  Acadian 
Alike  were 
vy,  the  vice 
nor  bars  to 

86 

i  the  hearts 
•est  lived  in 

nearer  the 


Benedict    Bellefontaine,   the    wealthiest    farmer  of 

Grand-Pre, 
Dwelt  on  his  goodly  acres ;  and  with  him,  directing 

his  household. 
Gentle  Evangeline  lived,  his  child,  and  the  pride  of 

the  village. 
Stal  worth  and  stately  in  form  was  the  man  of  seventy 

winters ; 
Hearty  and  hale  was  he,  an  oak  that  is  covered  with 

snow-flakes; 
White  as  the  snow  were  his  locks,  and  his  cheeks  as 

brown  as  the  oak-leaves. 
Fair  was  she  to  behold,  that  maiden  of  seventeen 

summers;  * 

Black  were  her  eyes  as  the  berry  that  grows  on  the 

thorn  by  the  wayside. 
Black,  yet  how  soflly  they  gleamed  beneath  the  brown 

shade  of  her  tresses  1 
Sweet  was  her  breath  as  the  breath  of  kine  that  feed 

in  the  meadows. 
When  in  the  harvest  heat  she  bore  to  the  reapers  at 

noontide 
Flagons  of  home-brewed  ale,  ah!  fair  in  sooth  was 

the  maiden.  ^ 

Fairer  was  she,  when  on  Sunday  mom,  while  the  bell 

from  its  turret 
Sprinkled  with  holy  sounds  the  air,  as  the  priest  with 

his  hyssop 
Sprinkles   the  congregation,  and  scatters  bessings 

upon  them 
Down  the  long  street  she  passed,  with  her  chaplet  of 

beads  and  her  missal. 


74 


BVANGBLINB. 


I* 


Wearing  her  Norman  cap  and  her  kirtle  of  blue,  and 

the  ear-rings  '"' 

Brought  in  the  olden  time  from  France,  and  since,  as 

an  heirloom, 
Handed  down  from  mother  to  child,  through  long 

generations. 
But  a  celestial  brightness — a  more  ethereal  beauty — 
Shone  on  her  face  and  encircled  her  form,  when,  after 

confession. 
Homeward  serenely  she  walked  with  God's  benedic- 
tion upon  her.  ** 
When,  she  had  passed,  it  seemed  like  the  ceasing  of 

exquisite  music. 
Firmly  builded  with  rafters  of  oak,  the  house  of 

the  farmer 
Stood  on  the  side  of  a  hill  commanding  the  sea;  and 

a  shady 
Sycamore  grew  by  the  door,  with  a  woodbine  wreath- 
ing around  it. 
Rudely  carved  was  the  porch,  with  seats  beneath;  and 

a  footpath  * 

Led  through  an  orchard  wide,  and  disappeared  in  the 

meadow. 
Under  the  sycamore-tree  were  hives  overhung  by  a 

penthouse. 
Such  as  the  traveler  sees  in   regions  remote  by  the 

roadside. 
Built  o'er  a  box  for  the  poor,  or  the  blessed  image  of 

Mary.     . 
Farther  down,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  was  the  well 

with  its  moss-grown  «» 

Bucket,  fastened  with  iron,  and  near  it  a  trough  for 

the  horses. 


Shieldi 

th( 
There ! 

pl( 
There  ^ 

fea 
Strutte 

th< 
Voice  1 

Pe 
Burstic 

lag 
Far  o'e 

sta 
Under  1 

coi 
There  t 

cei 
Murmu 

an 
Numbe 

mt 

Thus 

far 
Lived  c 

his 
Many  a 

his 
Fixed  1 

de\ 
Happy 

of 


glflBljqBi|j|lV'''Wlipi^liit%WWI*i'MP>iHM  i">''i  '■■■^V 


BVANOBLINV. 


n 


f  blue,  and 

id  since,  as 

ough  long 

,1  beauty — 
ivhen,  after 

I's  benedic- 

ceasing  of 

e  house  of 

le  sea;  and 

ine  wreath- 

ineath;  and 

86 

ared  in  the 
hung  by  a 
lote  by  the 
d  image  of 
IS  the  well 

00 

trough  for 


Shielding  the  house  from  storms,  on  the  north,  were 
the  bams  and  the  farmyard; 

There  stood  the  broad-wheeled  wains  and  the  antique 
plows  and  harrows; 

There  were  the  folds  for  the  sheep,  and  there  in  his 
feathered  seraglio. 

Strutted  the  lordly  turkey,  and  crowed  the  cock,  with 
the  selfsame  "» 

Voice  that  in  ages  of  old  had  startled  the  penitent 
Peter. 

Bursting  with  hay  were  the  bams,  themselves  a  vil- 
lage.    In  each  one 

Far  o'er  the  gable  projected  a  roof  of  thatch;  and  a 
staircase, 

Under  the  sheltering  eaves,  led  up  to  the  odorous 
cornloft. 

There  too  the  dove-cot  stood,  with  its  meek  and  inno- 
cent  inmates  "w 

Murmuring  ever  of  love;  while  above  in  the  vari- 
ant breezes 

Numberless  noisy  weathercocks  rattled  and  sang  of 
mutation. 

Thus,  at  peace  with  God  and    the    world,    the 

farmer  of  Grand-Pre 
Lived  on  his  sunny  farm,  and  Evangeline  governed 

his  household. 
Many  a  youth,  as  he  knelt  in  the  church  and  opened 

his  missal,  »<» 

Fixed  his  eyes  upon  her  as  the  saint  of  his  deepest 

devotion; 
Happy  was  he  who  might  touch  her  hand  or  the  hem 

of  her  garmenti 


T6 


VVANOBLINS. 


m 


Many  a  suitor  came  to  her  door,  by  the  darkness  be- 
friended, 

And,  as  he  knocked  and  waited  to  hear  the  sound  of 
her  footsteps, 

Knew  not  which  beat  the  louder,  his  heart  or  the 
knocker  of  iron; 

Or,  at  the  joyous  feast  of  the  Patron  Saint  of  the  vil- 
lage, 

Bolder  grew,  and  pressed  her  hand  in  the  dance  as  he 
whispered 

Hurried  words  of  love,  that  seemed  a  part  of  the 
music. 

But  among  all  who  came  young  Gabriel  only  was 
welcome; 

Gabriel  Lajeunesse,  the   son   of  Basil   the   black- 
smith, 

Who  was  a  mighty  man  in  the  village,  and  honored 
of  all  men ; 

For  since  the  birth  of  time,  throughout  all  ages  and 
nations. 

Has  the  craft  of  the  smith  been  held  in  repute  by  the 
people. 

Basil  was  Benedict's  friend.     Their  children  from 
earliest  childhood 

Grew  up  together  as  brother  and  sister;  and  Father 
Felician,  "" 

Priest  and  pedagogue  both  in  the  village,  had  taught 
them  their  letters 

Out  of  the  selfsame  book,  with  the  hymns  of  the 
church  and  the  plain-song. 

But  when  the  hymn  was  sung,  and  tlie  daily  lesson 
completed, 


Swiftly 

bla 
There  s 

bel 
Take  ii 

pla 
Nailing 

of  I 
Lay  lili 

cin 
Oft  on  i 

dai 
Burstin 

eve 

Warmi 

bel 
And  as 

the 
Merrily 

the 
Oft  on  j 

ea( 
Down  t 

me 
Oft  in  t 

on 
Seeking 

the 
Brings 

of] 
Lucky  1 

swi 


m 


mmm 


XVANOXI.INB. 


7T 


rkness  be- 
e  sound  of 

irt  or  the 

no 

of  the  vil- 
lance  as  he 
art  of  the 
[  only  was 
the   black- 

116 

id  honored 

11  ages  and 
)ute  by  the 
Idren  from 
md  Father 

180 

had  taught 
mns  of  the 
laily  lesson 


Swiftly  they  hurried  away  to  the  forge  of  Basil  the 
blacksmith. 

There  at  the  door  they  stood,  with  wondering  eyes  to 
behold  him  *" 

Take  in  his  leathern  lap  the  hoof  of  the  horse  as  a 
plaything, 

Nailing  the  shoe  in  its  place ;  while  near  him  the  tire 

of  the  cart-wheel 
Lay  like  a  fiery  snake,  coiled  round  in  a  circle  of 

cinders. 
Oft  on  autumnal  eves,  when  without  in  the  gathering 

darkness 
Bursting  with  light  seemed  the  smithy,  through 

every  cranny  and  crevice,  *" 

Warm  by  the  forge  within  they  watched  the  laboring 

bellows, 
And  as  its  panting  ceased,  and  the  sparks  expired  in 

the  ashes, 
Merrily  laughed,  and  said  they  were  nuns  going  into 

the  chapel. 
Oft  on  sledges  in  winter,  as  swift  as  the  swoop  of  the 

Down  the  hillside  bounding,  they  glided  away  o'er  the 

meadow.  ** 

Oft  in  the  bams  they  climbed  to  the  populous  nests 

on  the  rafters. 
Seeking  with  eager  eyes  that  wondrous  stone,  which 

the  swallow 
Brings  from  the  shore  of  the  sea  to  restore  the  sight 

of  its  fledglings; 

Lucky  was  he  who  found  that  stone  in  the  nest  of  the 
swallow  I 


78 


KVANGEWNR. 


Thus  passed  a  few  swift  years,  and  they  no  longer 

were  children. 
He  was  a  valiant  youth,  and  his  face,  like  the  face  of 

the  morning, 
Gladdened  the  earth  with   its    light,   and  ripened 

thought  into  action. 
She  was  a  woman  now,  with  the  heart  and  hopes  of  a 

woman. 
"Sunshine  of  St.  Eulalie"  was  she  called;   for  that 

was  the  sunshine 
Which,  as  the  farmers  believed,   would  load  their 

orchards  with  apples; 
She  too  would  bring  to  her  husband's  house  delight 

and  abundance. 
Filling  it  full  of  love  and  ruddy  faces  of  children. 

SECOND  READING. 

Now  had  the  season  returned,  when  the  nights 

grow  colder  and  longer. 
And  the  retreating  sun  the  sign  of  the  Scorpion  en- 
ters. 
Birds  of  passage  sailed  through  the  leaden  air,  from 

the  ice-bound. 
Desolate  northern  bays  to  the  shores  of  tropical 

islands. 
Harvests  were  gathered  in;  and  wild  with  the  winds 

of  September 
Wrestled  the  trees  of  the  forest,  as  Jacob  of  old  with 

tne  angel. 
All  the  signs  foretold  a  winter  long  and  inclement. 
Bees,  with  prophetic  instiuct  of  want,  had  hoarded 

their  honey  ^ 


Y  no  longer 

140 

t  the  face  of 
md  ripened 
d  hopes  of  a 
:d;  for  that 
load  their 

145 

)use  delight 
children. 

L  the  nights 
scorpion  en- 
en  air,  from 

lEO 

of  tropical 

h  the  winds 

>  of  old  with 

inclement, 
had  hoarded 


BVANGBUNB. 


79 


Till  the  hives  overflowed;  and  the  Indian  hunters  as- 
serted 

Cold  would  the  winter  be,  for  thick  was  the  fur  of  the 
foxes. 

Such  was  the  advent  of  autumn.  Then  followed 
that  beautiful  season. 

Called  by  the  pious  Acadian  peasants  the  Summer  of 

All-Saints! 
Filled  was  the  air  with  a  dreamy  and  magical  light; 

and  the  landscape  »«» 

Lay  as  if  new-created  in  all  the  freshness  of  childhood. 
Peace  seemed  to  reign  upon  earth,  and  the  restless 

heart  of  the  ocean 

Was  for  a  moment  consoled.     All  sounds  were  in 

harmony  blended. 
Voices  of  children  at  play,  the  crowing  of  cocks  in 

the  farm-yards, 

Whir  of  wings  in  the  drowsy  air,  and  the  cooing  of 
pigeons  »« 

All  were  subdued  and  low  as  the  murmurs  of  love, 
and  the  great  sun 

lyooked  with  the  eye  of  love  through  the  golden  va- 
pors around  him; 

While  arrayed  in  its  robes  of  russet  and  scarlet  and 
yellow. 

Bright  with  the  sheen  of  the  dew,  each  glittering  tree 
of  the  forest 

Flashed  like  the  plane-tree  the  Persian  adorned  with 
mantles  and  jewels. 


-170 


Now  recommenced  the  reign  of  rest  and  aflFection 
and  stillness. 


I 


80 


SVANOBLINS. 


Day  with  its  burden  and  heat  had  departed,  and  twi- 
light descending 
Brought  back  the  evening  star  to  the  sky,  and  the 

herds  to  the  homestead. 
Pawing  the  ground  they  came,  and  resting  their 

necks  on  each  other, 
And  with  their  nostrils  distended  inhaling  the  fresh- 
ness of  evening.  ^  *" 
Foremost,  bearing  the  bell,   Evangeline's  beautiful 

heifer, 
Proud  of  her  snow-white  hide,  and  the  ribbon  that 

waved  from  her  collar. 
Quietly  paced  and  slow,  as  if  conscious  of  human 

affection. 
Then  came  the  shepherd  back  with  his  bleating  flocks 

from  the  seaside. 
Where  was  their   favorite  pasture.     Behind    them 

followed  the  watch-dog,  ** 

Patient,  full  of  importance,  and  grand  in  the  pride  of 

his  instinct. 
Walking  from  side  to  side  with   a  lordly  air,  and 

superbly 
Waving  his    bushy  tail,   and  urging  forward  the 

stragglers ; 
Regent  of  flocks  was  he  when  the  shepherd  slept; 

their  protector, 
When  from  the  forest  at  night,  through  the  starry 

silence,  the  wolves  howled.  '  "* 

Late,  with  the  rising  moon,  returned  the  wains  from 

the  marshes, 
Laden  with  briny  hay,  that  filled  the  air  with  its 

odor. 


irt^^=CiP-*-«Saiir?iftd»«r' 


i^ 


BVANGBUNE. 


81 


and  twi- 

and  the 
ng  their 
lie  fresh- 

175 

beautiful 
bon  that 
r  human 
LUg  flocks 
id    them 

180 

;  pride  of    ' 

air,  and 
»rard  the 
rd  slept; 

he  starry 

m 

lins  from 
with  its 


Cheerily  neighed  the  steeds,  with  dew  on  their  manes 
and  their  fetlocks. 

While  aloft  on  their  shoulders  the  wooden  and  pon- 
derous saddles, 

Painted  with  brilliant  dyes,  and  adorned  with  tassels 
of  crimson,  •* 

Nodded  in  bright  array,  like  hollyhocks  heavy  with 
blossoms. 

Patiently  stood  the  cows  meanwhile,  and  yielded  their 
udders 

Unto  the  milkmaid's  hand;  whilst  loud  and  in  regular 
cadence 

Into  the  sounding  pails  the  foaming  streamlets  de- 
scended. 

Lowing  of  cattle  and  peals  of  laughter  were  heard  in 
the  farm-yard,  ** 

Echoed  back  by  the  barns.  Anon  they  sank  into 
stillness; 

Heavily  closed,  with  a  jarring  sound,  the  valves  of 
the  barn-doors. 

Rattled  the  wooden  bars,  and  all  for  a  season  was 
silent. 

In-doors,  warm  by  the  wide-mouthed  fireplace,  idly 
the  farmer 

Sat  in  his  elbow-chair,  and  watched  how  the  flames 
and  the  smoke-wreaths  ^ 

Struggled  together  like  foes  in  a  burning  city.  Be- 
hind him. 

Nodding  and  mocking  along  the  wall  with  gestures 
fantastic. 

Darted  his  own  huge  shadow,  and  vanished  away  into 
darkness. 


mt 


n2 


EVANGELINE. 


m 


P 

KM 


r-l 


Faces,  clumsily  carved  in  oak,  on  the  back  of  his 

arm-chair, 
Laughed  in  the  flickering  light,  and  the  pewter  plates 

on  the  dresser  ** 

Caught  and  reflected  the  flame,  as  shields  of  armies 

the  sunshine. 
Fragments  of  song  the  old  man  sang,  and  carols  of 

Christmas, 
Such  as  at  home,  in  the  olden  time,  his  fathers  before 

him 
Sang  in  their  Norman  orchards  and  bright  Burgun- 

dian  vineyards. 
Close  at  her  father's  side  was  the  gentle  Evangeline 

seated,  '••" 

Spinning  flax  for  the  loom  that  stood  in  the  corner 

behind  her. 
Silent  awhile  were  its  treadles,  at  rest  was  its  diligent 

shuttle, 
While  the  monotonous  drone  of  the  wheel,  like  the 

drone  of  a  bagpipe, 
Followed  the  old  man's  song,  and  united  the  fragments 

together. 
As  in  a  church,  when  the  chant  of  the  choir  at  inter- 
vals ceases,  ^^ 
Footfalls  are  heard  in  the  aisles,  or  words  of  priest  at 

the  altar, 
So,  in  each  pause  of  the  song,  with  measured  motion 

the  clock  clicked. 

Thus  as  they  sat,  there  were  footsteps  heard,  and, 
suddenly  lifted. 
Sounded  the  wooden  latch,  and  the  door  swung  back 
on  its  hinges. 


Benedi( 

th« 
And  hy 

wi 
"Welcc 

pa 
"V/elcc 

on 
Close  1 

wi 
Take  fi 

tol 
Never  ; 

cu 
Smoke 

fa( 
Round 

of 

Then,  i 

bli 
Taking 

sic 
"Benec 

tb 
Ever  ii 

fit 
Gloom^ 

th 
Happy 

a] 
Pausin 

br 


i 


:k  of  his 
ter  plates 

305 

)f  armies 
carols  of 

:rs  before 
Burgun- 

rangeline 

210 

le  corner 
3  diligent 
,  like  the 
ragments 
r  at  inter- 

815 

■  priest  at 
id  motion 

:ard,  and, 
ung  back 


EV  ANGELINA.  89 

Benedict  knew  by  the  hob-nailed  shoes  it  was  Basil 

the  blacksmith,  *"" 

And  by  her  beating  heart  Evangeline  knew  who  was 

with  him. 
"Welcome!"  the  farmer  exclaimed,  as  their  footsteps 

paused  on  the  threshold, 
"V/elcome,  Basil,  my  friend!  Come,   take   thy  place 

on  the  settle 
Close  by  the  chimney-side,  which  is  always  empty 

without  thee; 
Take  from  the  shelf  overhead  thy  t)ipe  and  the  box  of 

tobacco; 
Never  so  much  thyself  art  thou  as  when,  through  the 

curling 
Smoke  of  the  pipe  or  the  forge,  thy  friendly  and  jovial 

face  gleams 
Round  and  red  as  the  harvest  moon  through  the  mist 

of  the  marshes." 
Then,  with  a  smile  of  content,  thus  answered  Basil  the 

blacksmith, 
Takine:  with  easy  air  the  accustomed  seat  by  the  fire- 

side:-  .  ^  . 

"Benedict  Bellefontaine,  thou  hast  ever  thy  jest  and' 

thy  ballad! 
Ever  in  cheerfuUest  mood  art  thou,  when  others  are 

filled  with 
Gloomy  forebodings  of  ill,  and  see  only  ruin  before 

them. 
Happy  art  thou,  ixn  if  every  day  thou  hadst  picked  up 

a  horseshoe." 
Pausing  a  moment,  to  take  the  pipe  that  Evangeline 

brought  him,  ""' 


335 


84 


BVANGBI,INB. 


And  with  a  coal  from  the  embers  had  lighted,  he 

slowly  continued: — 
"Four  days  now  are  passed  since  the  English  ships 

at  their  anchors 
Ride  in  the  Gaspereau's  mouth,  with  their  cannon 

pointed  against  us. 
What  their  design  may  be  is  unknown;  but  all  are 

commanded 
On  the  morrow  to  meet  in  the  church,  where  his 

Majesty's  mandate  ^*' 

Will  be  proclaimed  as  law  in  the  land.    Alas!  in  the 

mean  time 
Many  surmises  of  evil  alarm  the  hearts  of  the  people." 
Then  made  answer    the    farmer: — "Perhaps  some 

friendlier  purpose 
Brings  these  snips  to  our  shores.    Perhaps  the  har- 
vests in  England 
By  untimely  rains  or  untimelier   heat  have  been 

blighted,  ^ 

And  from  our  bursting  bams  they  would  feed  their 

cattle  and  children." 
"Not  so  thinketh  the  folk  in  the  village,"  said  warmly 

the  blacksmith. 
Shaking  his  head  as  in  doubt;  then,  heaving  a  sigh, 

he  continued: — 
"Louisburg  is  not  forgotten,  nor  Beau  Sejour,  nor 

Port  Royal. 
Many  already  have  fled  to  the  forest,  and  lurk  on  its 

outskirts,  ^ 

Wuting  with  anxious  hearts  the  dubious  fate  of  to- 
morrow. 
Arms  have  been  taken  from  us,  and  warlike  weapons 

of  all  kinds; 


Nothinj 

scy 
Then  w 

far: 
"Safer  £ 

anc 
Safer  wi 
Than  oi 

car 
Fear  no 

of! 
Fall  on 

ofl 
Built  a 

oft 
Strongl 

the 
Filled  t 

for 
Rene  L 

inl 
Shall  w 

OU] 

As  apai 
hei 

Blushii 
ha( 

And,  as 
ter 


Bent 
the 


ighted,  he 
^lish  ships 
eir  caunon 
)ut  all  are 
where  his 

240 

las!   in  the 

he  people." 
b^ips  some 

s  the  har- 

have  been 

845 

feed  their 
aid  warmly 
ig  a  sigh, 
jejour,  nor 

lurk  on  its 

sso 

fate  of  to- 
ce  weapons 


BVANGBLINB. 


8S 


Nothing  is  left  but  the  blacksmith's  sledge  and  the 

scythe  of  the  mower." 
Then  with  a  pleasant  smile  made  answer  the  jovial 

farmer: — 
"Safer  are  we  unarmed,  in   the  midst  of  our  flocks 

and  our  cornfields,  *** 

Safer  within  these  peaceful  dikes  besieged  by  the  ocean. 
Than  our  fathers  in  forts,  besieged  by  the  enemy's 

cannon. 
Fear  no  eAdl,  my  friend,  and  to-night  may  no  shadow 

of  sorrow 
Fall  on  this  house  and  hearth;  for  this  is  the  night 

of  the  contract. 
Built  are  the  house  and  the  barn.    The  merry  lads 

of  the  village  ** 

Strongly  have  built  them  and  well;  and,  breaking 

the  glebe  round  about  them. 
Filled  the  barn  with  hay,  and  the  house  with  food 

for  a  twelvemonth. 
Rene  Leblanc  will  be  here  anon,  with  his  papers  and 

inkhom. 
Shall  we  not  then  be  glad,  and  rejoice  in  the  joy  of 

our  children  ?" 
As  apart  by  the  window  she  stood,  with  her  hand  in 

her  lover's,  ^ 

Blushing  Evangeline  heard  the  words  that  her  father 

had  spoken. 
And,  as  they  died  on  his  lips,  the  worthy  notary  en- 
tered. 

THIRD  READING. 

Bent  like  a  laboring  oar,  that  toils  in  the  surf  of 
the  ocean, 


M 


«VANGEUN«. 


Bent,  but  not  broken,  by  age  was  the  form  of  the  no- 
tary public ; 
Shocks  of  yellow  hair,  like  the  silken  floss  of  the 

I.  270 

maize,  hung 

Over  his  shoulders;  his  forehead  was  high;  and 
glasses  with  horn  bows 

Sat  astride  on  his  nose,  with  a  look  of  wisdom  su- 
pernal. 

Father  of  twenty  children  was  he,  and  more  than  a 
hundred 

Children's  children  rode  on  his  knee,  and  heard  his 
great  watch  tick. 

Four  long  years  in  the  times  of  the  war  had  he  lan- 
guished a  captive, 

Suffering  much  in  an  old  French  fort  as  the  friend  of 
the  English. 

Now,  though  warier  grown,  without  all  guile  or  sus- 
picion, 

Ripe  in  wisdom  was  he,  but  patient,  and  simple,  and 
childlike. 

He  was  beloved  by  all,  and  most  of  all  by  the  chil- 
dren ; 

For  he  told  them  tales  of  the  Loup-garou  in  the 
forest, 

And  of  the  goblin  that  came  in  the  night  to  water 
the  horses, 

And  of  the  white  Letiche,  the  ghost  of  a  child"  who 
unchristened 

Died,  and  was  doomed  to  haunt  unseen  the  chambers 
of  children; 

And  how  on  Christmas  eve  the  oxen  talked  in  the 
stable. 


And  how 

a  nu 
And  of  tl 

and 
With  whi 

lage. 
Then  up 

blacl 
Knocked 

ing  ] 
"Father 

thel 
And,  pel 

ship; 
Then  wit 

publ 
'*  Gossip 

thei 
And  wha 

othe 
Yet  am  I 

tion 
Brings  tl 

moh 
"God's  1 

irasc 
"Must  V 

why 
Daily  inj 

stroi 
But,  witl 

tary 
"  Man  is 


EVANGELINB. 


87 


if  the  no- 
ss  of  the 

270 

igh;  and 

sdom  su- 
e  than  a 
leard  his 
I  he  lan- 

876 

friend  of 
le  or  sus- 
nple,  and 

the  chil- 
li in  the 

280 

to  water 
hild'  who 

chambers 
id  in  the 


And  how  the  fever  was  cured  by  a  spider  shut  up  in 
a  nutshell,  ^ 

And  of  the  marvelous  powers  of  four-leaved  clover 
and  horseshoes, 

With  whatsoever  else  was  writ  in  the  lore  of  the  vil- 
lage. 

Then  up  rose  from  his  seat  by  the  fireside  Basil  the 
blacksmith, 

Knocked  from  his  pipe  the  ashes,  and  slowly  extend- 
ing his  right  hand, 

"Father  Leblanc,"  he  exclaimed,  "thou  hast  heard 
the  talk  in  the  village,  ^ 

And,  perchance,  canst  tell  us  some  news  of  these 
ships  and  their  errand." 

Then  with  modest  demeanor  made  answer  the  notary 
public, — 

'*  Gossip  enough  have  I  heard,  in  sooth,  yet  am  never 
the  wiser ; 

And  what  their  errand  may  be  I  know  no  better  than 
others. 

Yet  am  I  not  of  those  who  imagine  some  evil  inten- 
tion ^ 

Brings  them  here,  for  we  are  at  peace ;  and  why  then 
molest  us?" 

"God's  name!"  shouted  the  hasty  and  somewhat 
irascible  blacksmith ; 

"Must  we  in  all  things  look  for  the  how,  and  the 
why,  and  the  wherefore  ? 

Daily  injustice  is  done,  and  might  is  the  right  of  the 
strongest ! " 

But,  without  heeding  his  warmth,  continued  the  no- 
tary public, —  *" 

"Man  is  unjust,  but  God  is  just;  and  finally  justice 


88 


BVANGBLINB. 


m 


Triumphs ;  and  well  I  remember  a  story,  that  often 
consoled  me, 

When  as  a  captive  I  lay  in  the  old  French  fort  at 
Port  Royal." 

This  was  the  old  man's  favorite  tale,  and  he  loved  to 
repeat  it 

When  his  neighbors  complained  that  any  injustice 
was  done  them.  '** 

"  Once  in  an  ancient  city,  whose  name  I  no  longer 
remember, 

Raised  aloft  on  a  column,  a  brazen  statute  of  Justice 

Stood  in  the  public  square,  upholding  the  scales  in 
its  left  hand. 

And  in  its  right  a  sword,  as  an  emblem  that  justice 
presided 

Over  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  the  hearts  and  homes 
of  the  people.  "*' 

Even  the  birds  had  built  their  nests  in  the  scales  of 
the  balance. 

Having  no  fear  of  the  sword  that  ilashed  in  the  sun- 
shine above  them. 

But  in  the  course  of  time  the  laws  of  the  land  were 
corrupted ; 

Might  took  the  place  of  right,  and  the  weak  were 
oppressed,  and  the  mighty 

Ruled  with  an  iron  rod.  Then  it  chanced  in  a  noble- 
man's palace  ''^ 

That  a  necklace  of  pearls  was  lost,  and  ere  long  a 
suspicion 

Fell  on  an  orphan  girl  who  lived  as  maid  in  the 
household. 

She,  after  form  of  trial  condemned  to  die  on  the  scaf- 
fold, 


Patiently 

Justic 
As  to  hei 

cende 
Lol  o'ert 

thunc 
Smote  the 

its  lei 
Down  on  1 

thebi 
And  in  tl 

magp 
Into  whos( 

inwo\ 
Silenced, 

ended 
Stood  like 

no  lai 
All  his  tl 

face,  i 
Freeze  in 

the  w 

ThenE 

table, 
Filled,  tii; 

home- 
Nut-browr 

villag 
While  fro 

and  it 
Wrote  wit 

partie 


that  often 

ich  fort  at 

le  loved  to 

V  injustice 

no  longer 

of  Justice 
e  scales  in 

lat  justice 

and  homes 

810 

e  scales  of 
n  the  sun- 
land  were 
weak  were 
in  a  noble- 

315 

ere  long  a 
aid  in  the 
in  the  scaf- 


BVANORUN9. 


S9 


Patiently  met  her  doom  at  the  foot  of  the  statue  of 

Justice. 
As  to  her  Father  in  heaven  her  innocent  spirit  as- 
cended, "* 
Lo  I  o'er  the  city  a  tempest  rose ;  and  the  bolts  of  the 

thunder 
Smote  the  statue  of  bronze,  and  hurled  in  wrath  from 

its  left  hand 
Down  on  the  pavement  below  the  clattering  scales  of 

the  balance, 
And  in  the  hollow  thereof  was  found  the  nest  of  a 

magpie, 
Into  whose  clay-built  walls  the  necklace  of  pearls  v 

inwoven."  -^ 

Silenced,  but  not  convinced,  when   the  story  was 

ended,  the  blacksmith 
Stood  like  a  man  who  fain  would  speak,  but  findeth 

no  language; 
All  his   thoughts  were  congealed  into  lines  on  his 

face,  as  the  vapors 
Freeze  in  fantastic  shapes  on  the  window-panes  in 

the  winter. 

Then  Evangeline  lighted  the  brazen  lamp  on  the 

table,  ^ 

Filled,  till  it  overflowed,  the  pewter  tankard  with 

home-brewed 
Nut-brown  ale,  that  was  famed  for  its  strength  in  the 

village  of  Grand-Pre ; 
While  from  his  pocket  the  notary  drew  his  papers 

and  inkhom. 
Wrote  with  a  steady  hand  the  date  and  the  age  of  the 

parties, 


m 


90 


EVANOKUNR. 


Naming  the  dower  of  the  bride  in  flocks  of  sheep  and 

in  cattle.  *'' 

Orderly  all  things  proceeded,  and  duly  and  well  were 

completed, 
And  the  great  seal  of  the  law  was  set  like  a  sun  on 

the  margin. 
Then  from  his  leathern  pouch  thp  farmer  threw  on 

the  table 
Three  times  the  old  man's  fee  in  solid  pieces  of  silver ; 
And  the  notary  rising,  and  blessing  the  bride  and 

bridegroom,  "" 

Lifted  aloft  the  tankard  of  ale  and  drank  to  their 

welfare. 
Wiping  the  foam  from  his  lip,  he  solemnly  bowed  and 

departed, 
While  in  silence  the  others  ^at  and  mused  by  the 

fireside, 
Till  Evangeline  brought  the  draught-board  out  of  its 

corner. 
Soon  was  the  game  begun.     In  friendly  contention 

the  old  men  '"' 

Laughed  at  each  lUcky  hit,  or  unsuccessful  manoeuvre, 
Laughed  when  r    m;i,.  was  crowned,  or  a  breach  was 

made  in  i-  ..   .,in^^  row. 
Meanwhile,  TS'.rct,  in  the  twilight  gloom  of  a  window's 

embras  ir  i, 
Sat  the  lovers  and  whispered  together,  beholding  the 

moon  rise 
Over  the  pallid  sea  and  the  silvery  mist  of  the  mead- 
ows. 


860 


Silently,  one  by  one,  in  the  infinite  meadows  of 
heaven, 


^ 


sheep  and 

••K< 

I  well  were 

e  a  sun  on 

r  threw  on 

5  of  silver ; 
bride  and 

k  to  their 

bowed  and 

sed  by  the 

i  out  of  its 

contention 

nanceuvre, 
Dreach  was 

1  window's 

lolding  the 

■  the  mead- 

aeadow$  of 


^*, 


•s     1 


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microfiches. 


Canadian  Inatituta  for  Hiatorical  IVIicroraproductiona  /  Inatitut  Canadian  da  microraproductiona  hiatoriquaa 


Blossomi 
ang( 

Thus 

the 
Rang  ou 

strai 
Rose  the 

the 
Many  a  i 

dooi 
Lingered 

glad 
Carefulb 

on  t 
And  on  1 

fam 
Soon  wit 

lowe 
Up  the  s 

ness 
Lighted '. 

mai( 
Silent  sh 

door 
Simple  tl 

and 
Ample  a 

care 
Linen  an 

W0V( 

This  was 


EVANGEI.INB. 


91 


Blossomed  the  lovely  stars,  the  forget-me-nots  of  the 
angels. 

Thus  was  the  evening  passed.     Anon  the  bell  from 

the  belfry 
Rang  out  the  hour  of  nine,  the  village  curfew,  and 

straightway 
Rose  the  guests  and  departed;  and  silence  reigned  in 

the  household.  «» 

Many  a  farewell  word  and  sweet  good-night  on  the 

door-step 
Lingered  long  in  Evangeline's  heart,  and  filled  it  with 

gladness. 
Carefully  then  were  covered  the  embers  that  glowed 

on  the  hearth-stone, 
And  on  the  oaken  stairs  resounded  the  tread  of  the 

farmer. 
Scon  with  a  soundless  step  the  foot  of  Evangeline  fol- 
lowed. «» 
Up  the  staircase  moved  a  luminous  space  in  the  dark- 
ness, 
Lighted  less  by  the  lamp  than  the  shining  face  of  the 

maiden. 
Silent  she  passed  through  the  hall,   and  entered  the 

door  of  her  chamber. 
Simple  that  chamber  was,  with  its  curtains  of  white, 

and  its  clothes-press 
Ample  and  high,  on  whose  spacious  shelves  were 

carefully  folded  *» 

Linen  and  woolen  stuffs,  by  the  hand  of  Evangeline 

woven 
This  was  the  precious  dower  she  would  bring  to  her 

ht^sband  in  marriage^ 


iil 


"^i' 


msm 


J 


92 


SVANGBUMS. 


Better  than  flocks  and  herds,  being  proofs  of  her  skill 

as  a  housewife. 
Soon  she  extingfuished  her  lamp,  for  the  mellow  and 

radiant  moonlight 
Streamed  through  the  windows,  and  lighted  the  room, 

till  the  heart  of  the  maiden  "* 

Swelled  and  obeyed  its  power,  like  the  tremulous  tides 

of  the  ocean. 
Ah!  she  was  fair,  exceeding  fair  to  behold,  as  she 

stood  with 
Naked  snow-white  feet  on  the  gleaming  floor  of  her 

chamberl 
Little  she  dreamed  that  below,  among  the  trees  of  the 

orchard. 
Waited  her  lover  and  watched  for  the  gleam  of  her 

lamp  and  her  shadow.  ^  "* 

Yet  were  her  thoughts  of  him,  and  at  times  a  feeling 

of  sadness 
Passed  o'er  her  soul,  as  the  sailing  shade  of  clouds  in 

the  moonlight 
Flitted  across  the  floor  and  darkened  the  room  for  a 

moment. 
And,  as  she  gazed  from  the  window,  she  saw  serenely 

the  moon  pass 
Forth  from  the  folds  of  a  cloud,  and  one  star  follow 

her  footsteps,  "° 

As  out  of  Abraham's  tent  young  Ishmael  wandered 

with  Hagar. 

FOURTH  READING. 

Pleasantly  rose  next  mom  the  sun  on  the  village 
of  Grand-Pre. 


1 


Pleasant 

Mir 
Where  t 

ridi; 
Life  had 

labc 
Knockec 

oftl 
Now  fro 

neig 
Came  ii 

peai 
Many  a 

you 
Made  th 

ous 
Where  t 

int 
Group  ai 
,  the 
Long  er< 

silei 
Thronge 

groi 
Sat,in  tl 

getl 
Every  h 

and 
For  witl 

tog« 
All  thin] 

was 


of  her  skill 
lellow  and 
i  the  room, 
ulous  tides 
»ld,  as  she 
oor  of  her 
trees  of  the 
am  of  her 

875 

's  a  feeling 
>f  clonds  in 
room  for  a 
iw  serenely 
star  follow 

880 

1  wandered 


-TO»ftv 


the  village 


EVANGELINE. 


93 


Pleasantly  gleamed  in  the  soft,  sweet  air  the  Basin  of 

Minas, 
Where  the  ships,  with  their  wavering  shadows,  were 

riding  at  anchor. 

Life  had  been  long  astir  in  the  village,  and  clamorous 
labor  »* 

Knocked  with  its  hundred  hands  at  the  golden  gates 
of  the  morning. 

Now  from  the  country  around,  from  the  farms  and 
neighboring  hamlets, 

Came  in  their  holiday  dresses  the  blithe  Acadian 
peasants. 

Many  a  glad  good- morrow  and  jocund  laugh  from  the 
young  folk 

Made  the  bright  air  brighter,  as  up  from  the  numer- 
ous meadows,  ** 

Where  no  path  could  be  seen  but  the  track  of  wheels 
in  the  greensward, 

Group  after  group  appeared,  and  joined,  or  passed  on 
.  the  highway. 

Long  ere  noon,  in  the  village  all  sounds  of  labor  were 

silenced. 
Thronged  were  the  streets  with  people;  and  noisy 

groups  at  the  house-doors 

Sat,in  the  cheerful  sun,  and  rejoiced  and  gossiped  to- 
gether. ** 

Every  house  was  an  inn,  where  all  were  welcomed 
and  feasted; 

For  with  this  pimple  people,  who  lived  like  brothers 
together, 

All  things  were  held  in  common,  and  what  one  had 
was  another's. 


'■'^'''K^^afflBsssjiissaw^gi^^jasg^sis^s^sfe^asfc^ 


<r 


94 


BVANGBUNB. 


Yet  under  Benedict's"  roof  hospitality  seemed  more 
abundant: 

For  Evaneeline  stood  among  the  guests  of  her 
father 

Bright  was  her  face  with  smiles,  and  words  of  wel- 
come and  gladness 

Fell  from  her  beautiful  lips,  and  blessed  the  cup  as 
she  gave  it. 

Under  the  open   sky,  in  the  odorous  air  of  the 
orchard, 

Stript  of  its  golden  fruit,  was  spread  the  feast  of  be- 
trothal. 

There  in  the  shade  of  the  porch  were  the  priest  and 
the  notary  seated;  ** 

There  good  Benedict  sat,  and  sturdy  Basil  the  black- 
smith. 

Not  far  withdrawn  from  these,  by  the  cider  press  and 
the  bee-hives, 

Michael  the  fiddler  was  placed,  with  the  gayest  of 
hearts  and  of  waistcoats. 

Shadow  and  light  from  the  leaves  alternately  played 
on  his  snow-white 

Hair,  as  it  waved  in  the  wind;  and  the  jolly  face  of 
the  fiddler  «*» 

Glowed  like  a  living  coal  when  the  ashes  are  blown 
from  the  embers. 

Gaily  the  old  man  sang  to  the  vibrant  sound  of  his 
fiddle, 

Tons  les  Bourgeois  de  Chartres^  and  Le  Carillon  de 
Dunkerque^ 

And  anon  with  his  wooden  shoes  beat  time  to  the  music. 


Merrily 

dar 
Under  t 

me 
Old  fol 

am< 
Fairest 

dav 
Noblest 

bla( 

So  pa 

moi 
Soundec 

ows 
Throng< 

out, 
Waited 

hui 
Garland 

the 
Then  ca 

proi 
Entered 

clai 
Echoed  1 

and 
Echoed 

porl 
Closed, 

the  I 
Then  u] 

step 


"''^wji'-oSSSS 


;med  more 
Its  of    her 

400 

rds  of  wel- 
he  cup  as 

air  of  the 
east  of  be- 
priest  and 

406 

the  black- 

r  press  and 

gayest  of 

tely  played 
ally  face  of 

410 

are  blown 
und  of  his 
Carillon  de 
0  the  music. 


"^TP-^v 


BVANGBUNB. 


95 


Merrily,  merrily  whirled  the  wheels  of  the  dizzying 
dances  4^ 

Under  the  orchard-trees  and  down  the  path  to  the 

meadows; 
Old  folk  and  young  together,  and  children  mingled 

among  them. 
Fairest   of  all  maids  was    Evangeline,   Benedict's 

daughter! 
Noblest  of  all  the  youths  was  Gabriel,  son  of  the 

blacksmith! 


So  passed  the  morning  away.  And  lo!  with  a  sum- 
mons sonorous  «» 

Sounded  the  bell  from  its  tower,  and  over  the  mead- 
ows a  drum  beat. 

Thronged  ere  long  was  the  church  with  men.  With- 
out, in  the  churchyard, 

Waited  the  women.  They  stood  by  the  graves,  and 
hung  on  the  headstones 

Garlands  of  autumn-leaves  and  evergreens  fresh  from 
the  forest. 

Then  came  the  guard  from  the  ships,  and  marching 
proudly  among  them  <» 

Entered  the  sacred  portal.  With  loud  and  dissonant 
clangor 

Echoed  the  sound  of  their  brazen  drums  from  ceiling 
and  casement, — 

Echoed  a  moment  only,  and  slowly  the  ponderous 
portal 

Closed,  and  in  silence  the  crowd  awaited  the  will  of 

the  soldiers. 
Then  uprose  their  commander,  and  spake  from  the 

steps  of  the  altar,  «» 


Sv- 

"1 


':i.m 


.-# 


96 


EVANGKUNB. 


Holding  aloft  in  his  hands,  with  the  seals,  the  royal 
commission. 

"You  are  convened  this  day,"  he  said,  "by  his  Maj- 
esty's orders. 

Clement  and  kind  has  he  been;  but  how  you  have 
answered  his  kindness 

Let  your  own  hearts  reply !    To  my  natural  make 
and  my  temper 

Painful  the  task  is  I  do,  which  to  you  I  know  must 
be  grievous. 

Yet  must  I  bow  and  obey,  and  deliver  the  will  of  our 
monarch: 

Namely,  that  all  your  lands,  and  dwellings,  and  cattle 
of  all  kinds 

Forfeited  be  to  the  crown;  and  that  you  yourselves 
from  this  province 

Be  transported  to  other  lands.    God  grant  you  may 
dwell  there 

Ever  as  faithful  subjects,  a  happy  and  peaceable  peo- 
ple! 

Prisoners  now  I  declare  you,  for  such  is  his  Majesty's 
pleasure!" 

As,  when  the  air  is  serene  in  the  sultry  solstice  of 

summer. 
Suddenly  gathers  a  storm,  and  the  deadly  sling  of  the 

hailstones 
Beats  down  the  farmer's  com  in  the  field,  and  shatters 

his  windows, 
Hiding  the  sun,  and  strewing  the  ground  with  thatch 
from  the  house-roofs,  *^ 

Bellowing  fly  the  herds,  and  seek  to  break  their  en- 
closures; 


'siss^s^im 


iiMlifil— liWg^'-"'^^' 


Soontl 

the 
Silent  a 

the 
Louder 
And,  bj 

the 
Vain  ws 

pre 
Rang  tl 

hee 
Rose,  V 

bla 
As,  on  j 
Flushec 

wil 
"Down 

sw< 
Death 

hoi 
More  h( 

ofs 

Smote  ] 
tol 

Inth 

ten 

Lol  the 

Entere<3 

the 

Raising 

int 


BVANGBUNB. 


9T 


the  royal 
his  Maj- 
you  have 
iral  make 
now  must 
will  of  our 
,  and  cattle 
yourselves 

;  you  may 
ceable  peo- 

440 

s  Majesty's 
solstice  of 
sling  of  the 
nd  shatters 
with  thatch 

445 

ik  their  en- 


So  on  the  hearts  of  the  people  descended  the  words  of 

the  speaker. 
Silent  a  moment  they  stood  in  speechless  wonder,  and 

then  rose 
Louder  and  ever  louder  a  wail  of  sorrow  and  anger, 
And,  by  one  impulse  moved,  they  madly  rushed  to 

the  door-way.  ^ 

Vain  was  the  hope  of  escape;  and  cries  and  fierce  im- 
precations 
Rang  through  the  house  of  prayer;  and  high  o'er  the 

heads  of  the  others 
Rose,  with  his  arms  uplifted,  the  figure  of  Basil  the 

blacksmith. 
As,  on  a  stormy  sea,  a  Spar  is  tossed  by  the  billows. 
Flushed  was  his  face  and  distorted  with  passion;  and 

wildly  he  shouted, —  ** 

"Down  with  the  tyrants  of  Englandl  we  never  have 

sworn  them  allegiance! 
Death  to  these  foreign  soldiers,  who  seize  on  our 

homes  and  our  harvestsl" 
More  he  fain  would  have  said,  but  the  merciless  hand 

of  a  soldier 

Smote  him  upon  the  mouth,  and  dragged  him  down 
to  the  pavement. 

In  the  midst  of  the  strife  and  tumult  of  angry  con- 
tention, *" 
Lol  the  door  of  the  chancel  opened,  and  Father  Felician 
Entered,  with  serious  mien,  and  ascended  the  steps  of 

the  altar. 
Raising  his  reverend  hand,  with  a  gesture  he  awed 
into  silence 


.  ,hi 


1^ 


':* 


.■.-■^ 


98 


KVANGKUN8. 


All  that  clamorous  throng;  and  thus  he  spake  to  his 

people; 
Deep  were  his  tones  and  solemn;  in  accents  measured 

and  mournful  ** 

Spake  he,  as,  after  the  tocsin's  alarum,  distinctly  the 

clock  strikes. 
"What  is  this  that  ye  do,  my  children?  what  madness 

has  seized  you? 
Forty  years  of  my  life  have  I  labored  among  you,  and 

taught  you, 
Not  in  word  alone,   but  in  deed,   to  love  one  an- 

otherl 
Is  this  the  fruit  of  my  toils,  of  my  vigils  and  prayers 

and  privations?  *  *"' 

Have  you  so  soon  forgotten  all  lessons  of  love  and 

forgiveness? 
This  is  the  house  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  would 

you  profane  it 

Thus  with  violent  deeds  and  hearts  overflowing  with 
hatred? 

Lol  where  the  crucified  Christ  from  His  cross  is  gaz- 
ing upon  you  I 

Seel  in  those  sorrowful  eyes  what  meekness  and  holy 
compassion!  *"> 

Hark!  how  those  lips  still  repeat  the  prayer,  'O 
Father,  forgive  theml' 

Let  us  repeat  that  prayer  in  the  hour  when  the  wicked 
assail  us, 

Let  us  repeat  it  now,  and  say,  *0  Father,  forgive 
them!' » 

Few  were  his  words  of  rebuke,  but  deep  in  the  hearts 
of  his  people 


Sank  th 
sioi 

While  t 
forj 

Then 

froi 

Fervent 

peo 

Not  witl 
Av" 

Sang  th 
wit 

Rose  01 
tol 

Mean 
ill. 

Wander 
and 

Long  at 

rig" 
Shieldit 

tha 
Lighted 

anc 
Peasant 

its 

Long  w 
the 

There  s 
wit 


m^- 


ke  to  his 
measured 

466 

inctly  the 
:  madness 
you,  and 
:  one  an- 
d  prayers 

470 

love  and 

,nd  would 

ving  with 

ss  is  gaz- 

and  holy 

476 

rayer,  'O 
tie  wicked 
:,  forgive 
;he  hearts 


BVANGBLINB. 


99 


Sank  they,  and  sobs  of  contrition  succeeded  the  pas- 
sionate outbreak,  ^ 

While  they  repeated  his  prayer  and  said,  "O  Father, 
forgfive  theml" 

Then  came  the  evening  service.   The  tapers  gleamed 

from  the  altar; 
Fervent  and  deep  was  the  voice  of  the  priest,  and  the 

people  responded. 
Not  with  their  lips  alone,  but  their  hearts;  and  the 

Ave  Maria 
Sang  they,  and  fell  on  their  knees,  and  their  souls, 

with  devotion  translated,  ** 

Rose  on  the  ardor  of  prayer,  like  Elijah  ascending 

to  heaveUi. 

Meanwhile  had  spread  in  the  village  the  tidings  of 

ill,  and  on  all  sides 
Wandered,  wailing,  from  house  to  house  the  women 

and  children. 
Long  at  her  father's  door  Evangeline  stood,  with  her 

right  hand 
Shielding  her  eyes  from  the  level  rays  of  the  sun, 

that,  descending,  **" 

Lighted  the  village  street  with  mysterious  splendor, 

and  roofed  each 
Peasant's  cottage  with  golden  thatch,  and  emblazoned 

its  windows. 
Long  within  had  been  spread  the  snow-white  cloth  on 

the  table; 
There  stood  the  wheaten  loaf,  and  the  honey  fragrant 

with  wild  flowers ; 


;»:#r 


-viHiM 


4>.>  ■''^j.i^-ivi^^'.ir.  ,^^-'ii/**";-i ' 


mf^ 


100 


SVANORUNB. 


There  stood  the  tankard  of  ale,  and  the  cheese  fresh 
brought  from  the  dairy  ;  ** 

And  at  the  head  of  the  board  the  great  arm-chair  of 
the  farmer. 

Thus  did  Evangeline  wait  at  her  father's  door,  as 
the  sunset 

Threw  the  long  shadows  of  trees  o'er  the  broad  am- 
brosial meadows. 

Ah  I  on  her  spirit  within  a  deeper  shadow  had 
fallen, 

And  from  the  fields  of  her  soul  a  fragrance  celestial 
ascended, —  """ 

Charity,  meekness,  love,  and  hope,  and  forgiveness, 
and  patience ! 

Then,  all  forgetful  of  self,  she  wandered  into  the 
village, 

Cheering  with  looks  and  words  the  mournful  hearts 
of  the  women, 

As  o'er  the  darkening  fields  with  lingering  steps  they 
departed. 

Urged  by  their  household  cares,  and  the  weary  feet 
of  their  children.  "* 

Down  sank  the  great  red  sun,  and  in  golden,  glim- 
mering vapors 

Veiled  the  light  of  his  face,  like  the  Prophet  descend- 
ing from  Sinai. 

Sweetly  over  the  village  the  bell  of  the  Angelus 
sounded. 

Meanwhile,  amid  the  gloom,  by  the  church  Evan- 
geline lingered. 
All  was  silent  within;  and  in  vain  at  the  door  and  the 
windows  "" 


Stood 
by 

"Gabri 
no 

Came  i 

Slowly 

of 
Smouh 

th 
Empty 

pli 
Sadly  i 

ch 
In  the 

ra 
Loud  c 

th 
Keenl) 

ec 
Told  h 

W( 

Thens 
iu 

Soothei 
sit 


Foui 

thi 

Cheeril 

fai 


Esese  fresh 
i-chair  of 
)  door,  as 
broad  am- 
idow  had 
:  celestial 

600 

rgiveness, 
1  into  the 
ful  hearts 
steps  they 
veary  feet 

BOB 

len,  glim- 

t  descend- 

Angelus 

rch  Evan- 

or  and  the 
uo 


uv-^m 


8VAN0RLINR. 


101 


Stood  she,  and  listened  atul  looked,  until,  overcome 

by  emotion 
"Gabriell"  cried  she  aloud  with  tremulous  voice,  but 

no  answer 
Came  from  the  graves  of  the  dead,  nor  the  gloomier 

grave  of  the  living. 
Slowly  at  length  she  returned  to  the  tenantless  house 

of  her  father. 
Smouldered  the  fire  on  the  hearth,  on  the  board  was 

the  supper  untasted.  ■"' 

Empty  and  drear  was  each  room,  and  haunted  with 

phantoms  of  terror. 
Sadly  echoed  her  step  on  the  stair  and  the  floor  of  her 

chamber. 
In  the  dead  of  the  night  she  heard  the  disconsolate 

rain  fall 
Loud  on  the  withered  leaves  of  the  sycamore-tree  by 

the  window. 
Keenly  the  lightning  flashed;  and  the  voice  of  the 

echoing  thunder  «» 

Told  her  that  God  was  in  heaven  and  governed  the 

world  He  created! 
Then  she  remembered  the  tale  she  had  heard  of  the 

justice  of  Heaven; 
Soothed  was  her  troubled  soul,  and  she  peacefully 

slumbered  till  morning. 

FIFTH  READING. 

Four  times  the  sun  had  risen  and  set;  and  now  on 
the  fifth  day 
Cheerily  called  the  cock  to  the  sleeping  maids  of  the 
farm-house.  ■* 


i-m 


-mmmmm 


WittMiKmifamis^mmmmmmimiam 


;,-f 


102 


EVANGELINK. 


Soon  o'er  the  yellow  fields,  in  silent  and  mournful 

procession, 
Came  from  the  neighboring  hamlets  and  farms  the 

Acadian  women, 
Driving  in  ponderous  wains  their  household  goods  to 

the  sea-shore, 
Pausing  and  looking  back  to  gaze  once  more  on  their 

dwellings. 
Ere  they  were  shut  from  sight  by  the  winding  road 

and  the  woodland.  "*" 

Close  at  their  sides  their  children  ran,  and  urged  on 

the  oxen. 
While  in  their  little  hands  they  clasped  some  frag- 
ments of  playthings.  ■ 

Thus  to  the  Gaspereau's  mouth  they  hurried;  and 

there  on  the  sea-beach 
Piled  in  confusion  lay  the  household  goods  of  the 

peasants. 
All  day  long  between  the  shore  and  the  ships  did  the 

boats  ply;  ^ 

All  day  long  the  wains. came  laboring  down  from  the 

village. 
Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  sun  was  near  to  his 

setting, 
Echoed  far  o'er  the  fields  came  the  roll  of  drums  fronj 

the  churchyard. 
Thither  the  women  and  children  thronged.     On  a 

sudden  the  church-doors 
Opened,  and  forth  came  the  guard,  and  marching  in 

gloomy  procession  "*" 

Followed  the  long-imprisoned,  but  patient,  Acadian 

farmers. 


Even 
ai 

Sing  a 
ai 

So  wit 

S( 

Down 
a: 

Foren 
tl 

Sang 

"Sacr( 

Fill  oi 

a 

Then 

tl 
Joinec 

.    s] 

Ming] 

d 

Ha] 

s; 
Noto 

a 
Calml 

a 
And  £ 
Tears 

n 
Clasp 


"^r^ 


mournful 
farms  the 
d  goods  to 
re  on  their 
iding  road 

530 

i  urged  on 
some  frag- 

rried;  and 
ods  of  the 
ips  did  the 

635 

a  from  the 
ear  to  his 
rums  fronj 
ed.  On  a 
arching  in 

540 

t,  Acadian 


BVAKGBLINS. 


loa 


Even  as  pilgrims,  who  journey  afar  from  their  homes 
and  their  country, 

Sing  as  they  go,  and  in  singing  forget  they  are"  weary 
and  wayworn. 

So  with  songs  on  their  lips  the  Acadian  peasants  de- 
scended 

Down  from  the  church  to  the  shore,  amid  their  wives 
and  their  daughters.  "* 

Foremost  the  young  men  came;  and  raising  together 
their  voices, 

Sang  with  tremulous  lips  a  chant  of  the  Catholic 
Missions: — 

"Sacred  heart  of  the  Saviour!  O  inexhaustible  fountain  I 

Fill  our  hearts  this  day  with  strength  and  submission 
and  patience!" 

Then  the  old  men,  as  they  marched,  and  the  women 
that  stood  by  the  wayside  ^ 

Joined  in  the  sacred  psalm,  and  the  birds  in  the  sun- 
shine above  them 

Mingled  their  notes  therewith,  like  voices  of  spirits 
departed. 

Halfway  down  to  the  shore  Evangeline  waited  in 

silence. 
Not  overcome  with  grief,  but  strong  in  the  hour  of 

affliction, — 
Calmly  and  sadly  she  waited,  until  the  procession 

approached  her,  *" 

And  she  beheld  the  face  of  Gabriel  pale  with  emotion. 
Tears  then  filled  her  eyes,  and,  eagerly  running  to 

meet  him, 
Clasped  she  his  hands,  and  laid  her  head  on  his 

shoulder,  and  whispered, — 


Si'il^- 


^^a^msmmmmi^'' 


104 


BVANGELINE. 


"Gabriel I  be  of  good  cheer  1  for  if  we  love  one 
another 

Nothing,  in  truth,  can  harm  us,  whatever  mischances 
may  happen  I"  "" 

Smiling  she  spake  these  words;  then  suddenly  paused, 
for  her  father 

Saw  she,  slowly  advancing.  Alas !  how  changed  was 
his  aspect! 

Gone  was  the  glow  from  his  cheek,  and  the  fire  from 
his  eye,  and  his  footstep 

Heavier  seemed  with  the  weight  of  the  heavy  heart 
in  his  bosom. 

But  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh,  she  clasped  his  neck 
and  embraced  him,  *" 

Speaking  words  of  endearment  where  words  of  com- 
fort availed  not. 

Thus  to  the  Gasperau's  mouth  moved  on  that  mourn- 
ful procession. 

There  disorder  prevailed,  and  the  tumult  and  stir 

of  embarking. 
Busily  plied  the  freighted  boats ;  and  in  the  confusion 
Wives  were  torn  from  their  husbands,  and  mothers, 

too  late,  saw  their  children  "* 

Left  on  the  land,  extending  their  arms,  with  wildest 

entreaties. 
So  unto  separate  ships  were  Basil  and  Gabriel  carried, 
While  in  despair  on  the  shore  Evangeline  stood  with 

her  father. 
Half  the  task  was  not  done  when  the  sun  went  down, 

and  the  twilight 
Deepened  and  darkened  around;  and  in  haste  the 

refluent  ocean  "" 


Fled  a\ 

sai 
Coverec 

sli] 
Farthei 

tht 
Like  to 
All  escj 

th( 
Lay  en 

far 
Back  tc 

0C( 

Draggi 

lea 
Inland 

saj 
Then, 

frc 
Sweet  y 

frc 
Lowing 

ba 
Waited 

of 
Silence 

Ai 
Rose  n 

frc 

But 
be 


love  one 
ischances 

50O 

y  paused, 
aged  was 
fire  from 
ivy  heart 
his  neck 

566 

s  of  com- 
it  mourn* 

t  and  stir 

confusion 
mothers. 

670 

h  wildest 

il  carried, 
tood  with 

mt  down, 

haste  the 

67S 


EVANGELINE. 


105 


Fled  away  from  the  shore,  and  left  the  line  of  the 

sand-beach 
Covered  with   waifs  of  the  tide,  with   kelp  and  the 

slippery  sea-weed. 
Farther  back  in  the  midst  of  the  household  goods  and 

the  wagons, 
Like  to  a  gypsy  camp,  or  a  leaguer  after  a  battle. 
All  escape  cut  o£F  by  the  sea,  and  the  sentinels  near 

them. 
Lay  encamped  for  the  night  the  houseless  Acadian 

farmers. 
Back  to  its  nethermost  caves  retreated  the  bellowing 

ocean, 
Dragging  adown  the  beach  the  rattling  pebbles,  and 

leaving 
Inland  and  far  up  the  shore  the  strs^nded  boats  of  the 

sailors. 
Then,  as  the  night  descended,  the  herds  returned 

from  their  pastures,  "" 

Sweet  was  the  moist  still  air  with  the  odor  of  milk 

from  their  udders 
Lowing  they  waited,   and  long,   at  the  well-known 

bars  of  the  farm-yard, — 
Waited  and  looked  in  vain  for  the  voice  and  the  hand 

of  the  milkmaid. 
Silence  reigned  in  the  streets ;  from  the  church  no 

Angelus  sounded, 
Rose  no  smoke  from  the  roofe,  and  gleamed  no  lighte 

from  the  windows.  *°" 


SBO 


But  on  the  shores  meanwhile  the  evening  fires  had 
been  kindled, 


■■■«' riii'aiwrMWi 


pfff 


■^t.  tiiiiJ^ 


r 


106 


BVANGBUNB. 


Built  of  the  drift-wood  thrown  on  the  sands  from 

wrecks  in  the  tempest. 
Round  them  shapes  of  gloom  and  sorrowful  faces  were 

gathered, 
Voices  of  women  were  heard,   and  of  men,   and  the 

crying  of  children. 
Onward  from  fire  to  fire,  as  from  hearth  to  hearth  in 

his  parish,  ^ 

Wandered  the  faithful  priest,  consoling  and  blessing 

and  cheering, 
Like  unto  shipwrecked  Paul  on  Melita's  desolate  sea- 
shore. 
Thus  he  approached  the  place  where  Evangeline  sat 

with  her  father. 
And  in  the  flickering  light  beheld  the  face  of  the  old 

man. 
Haggard  and  hollow  and  wan,  and  without  either 

thought  or  emotion,  *" 

E'en  as  the  face  of  a  clock  from  which  the  hands  have 

been  taken. 
Vainly  Evangeline  strove  with  words  and  caresses  to 

cheer  him. 
Vainly  offered  him  food;  yet  he  moved  not,  he  looked 

not,  he  spake  not, 
But,  with  a  vacant  stare,  ever  gazed  at  the  flickering 

fire-light. 
''^BenediciteV'*  murmured  the  priest,  in  tones  of  com- 
passion. "* 
More  he  fain  would  have  said,  but  his  heart  was  full, 

and  his  accents 
Faltered  and  paused  on  his  lips,  as  the  feet  of  a  child 

on  a  threshold,  . 


Hushec 
en* 

Silentlj 
ma 

Raising 
the 

Moved 

SOI 

Then  si 
in 

Sudd 

the 
Moon  c 

hoi 
Titan-li 

an( 
Seizing 

shs 
Broadei 

the 
Gleame 

lay 
Column 

flai 
Thrust 

qui 
Then,  a 

tha 
Whirlet 

hui 
Started 

mil 


inds  from 

Faces  were 

and  the 

hearth  in 

605 

1  blessing 
iolate  sea- 
>^eline  sat 
jf  the  old 
ut  either 

000 

ands  have 
aresses  to 
he  looked 

flickering 
IS  of  com- 

005 

t  was  full, 
of  a  child 


HHU 


KVANGELINE. 


107 


Hushed  by  the  scene  he  beholds,  and  the  awful  pres- 
ence of  sorrow. 

Silently,  therefore,  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  head  of  the 
maiden, 

Raising  his  tearful  eyes  to  the  silent  stars  that  above 
them  «'» 

Moved  on  their  way,  unperturbed  by  the  wrongs  and 
sorrows  of  mortals. 

Then  sat  he  down  at  her  side,  and  they  wept  together 
in  silence. 

Suddenly  rose  from  the  south  a  light,  as  in  autumn 

the  blood-red 
Moon  climbs  the  crystal  walls  of  heaven,  and  o'er  the 

horizon 
Titan-like  stretches  its  hundred  hands  upon  mountain 

and  meadow,  '" 

Seizing  the  rocks  and  the  rivers,  and  piling  huge 

shadows  together. 
Broader  and  ever  broader  it  gleamed  on  the  roofs  of 

the  village. 
Gleamed  on  the  sky  and  the  sea,  and  the  ships  that 

lay  in  the  roadstead. 
Columns  of  shining  smoke  uprose,   and  flashes  of 

flame  were 
Thrust  through  their  folds  and  withdrawn,  like  the 

quivering  hands  of  a  martyr  "** 

Then,  as  the  wind  seized  the  gleeas  and  the  burning 

thatch,  and,  uplifting. 
Whirled  them  aloft  through  the  air,  at  once  from  a 

hundred  house-tops 
Started  the  sheeted  smoke  with  flashes  of  flame  inter- 
mingled. 


5%^ 

fUy 


iP'-""^ 


■*(.>iwwii<wpryi'  - 


108 


BVANGBI.INB. 


These  things  beheld  in  dismay  the  crowd  on  the 
shore  and  on  shipboard. 
Speechless  at  first  they  stood,  then  cried  aloud  in 

their  anguish, 
"We  shall  behold  no  more  our  homes  in  the  village 

ofGrand-Prel" 
Loud  on  a  sudden  the  cocks  began  to  crow  in  the 

farmyards. 
Thinking  the  day  had  dawned;  and  anon  the  lowing 

of  cattle 
Came  on  the  evening  breeze,  by  the  barking  of  dogs 

interrupted. 
Then  rose  a  sound  of  dread,  such  as  startles  the 

sleeping  encampments 
Far  in  the  western  prairies  of  forests  that  skirt  the 

Nebraska 
When  the  wild  horses  affrighted  sweep  by  with  the 

speed  of  the  whirlwind. 
Or  the  loud  bellowing  herds  of  buffaloes  rush  to  the 

river-  . 

Such  was  the  sound  that  arose  on  the  night,  as  the 

herds  and  the  horses 
Broke  through  their  folds  and  fences,  and  madlg 

rushed  o'er  the  meadows. 

Overwhelmed  with  the  sight,  yet  speechless,  the 

priest  ?ind  the  maiden 
Gazed  on  the  scene  of  terror  that  reddened  and 

widened  before  them; 
And  as  they  turned  at  length  to  speak  to  their  silent 

companion, 
Lol  from  his  seat  he  had  fallen,  and  stretched  abroad 

on  the  seashore 


Motion! 

pai 
Slowly 

ma 
Knelt  a 

ter 
Then  ir 

his 
Throng 

slu 
And  wl 

mu 
Faces  o: 

ing 
Pallid,  1 

pas 
Still  th< 

Ian 

Reddeni 
aro 

And  lik 

sen 
Then  a 

peo 
"Let  us 

sea: 
Brings 

lam 
Then  si 

chu 
Such  W( 

has 


-«qn 


^d  on  the 
aloud  in 
he  village 
5w  in  the 
he  lowing 
ig  of  dogs 
artles  the 

630 

:  skirt  the 
J  with  the 
iish  to  the 
fht,  as  the 
ind  madl 


-t\ 


chless,  the 
lened  and 
their  silent 
hed  abroad 


BVANGKUNB. 


109 


Motionless  lay  his  form,  from  which  the  soul  had  de- 
parted. «« 

Slowly  the  priest  uplifted  the  lifeless  head,  and  the 
maiden 

Knelt  at  her  father's  side,  and  wailed  aloud  in  her 
terror. 

Then  in  a  swoon  she  sank  and  lay  with  her  head  on 
his  bosom. 

Through  the  long  night  she  lay  in  deep,  oblivious 
slumber; 

And  when  she  woke  from  the  trance,  she  beheld  a 
multitude  near  her.  •« 

Faces  of  friends  she  beheld,  that  were  mournfully  gaz- 
ing upon  her, 

Pallid,  with  tearful  eyes,  and  looks  of  saddest  com- 
passion. 

Still  the  blaze  of  the  burning  village  illumined  the 
landscape. 

Reddened  the  sky  overhead,  and  gleamed  on  the  faces 
around  her, 

And  like  the  day  of  doom  it  seemed  to  her  wavering 

senses.  * 

Then  a  familiar  voice  she  heard,  as  it  said  to  the 

people, — 
"  Let  us  bury  him  here  by  the  sea.    When  a  happier 

season 
Brings  us  again  to  our  homes  from  the  unknown 

land  of  our  exile. 

Then  shall  his  sacred  dust  be  piously  laid  in  the 
churchyard." 

Such  were  the  words  of  the  priest.  And  there  in 
haste  by  the  sea- side, 


«6 


'1.1 


t,m. 


Zl 


110 


KVANOEUNB. 


Having  the  glare  of  thp  burning  village  for  funeral 

But  wUho^t  bell  or  book,  they  buried  the  farmer  of 

Grand-Pre.  ,    ,  ... 

And  as  the  voice  of  the  priest  repeated  the  service  of 

Lo!  ^^tTi  mournful  sound  like  the  voice  of  a  vast 
congregation,  .     ,   *    .^ 

Solemnly  answered  the  sea,  and  mmgled  its  roar 
with  the  dirges. 

'T  was  the  returning  tide,  that  afar  from  the  waste 

of  the  ocean,  ,       •         ^  j 

With  the  first  dawn  of  the  day,  came  heaving  and 

hurrying  landward.  ,        .         j       •        < 

Then  recommenced  once  more  the  stir  and  noise  ot 

embarking;  .       ,  .  .,   -       .     r 

And  with  the  ebb  of  the  tide  the  ships  sailed  out  of 

the  harbor,  ,         ,      ,  j  4.1,^ 

Leaving  behind  them  the  dead  on  the  shore,  and  th^^ 

village  in  ruins. 

SIXTH  READING. 

Many  a  weary  year  had  passed  since  the  burning  of 

When  on  the 'falling  tide  the  freighted  vessels  de- 

BearFng^a  nation,  with  all  its  household  goods,  into 

Exile  without  an  end,  and  without  an  example  in 

Far^Sfnder,    on    separate    coasts,    the    Acadians 
landed; 


Scattere 

wir 
Strikes  t 

of  I 
Friendh 

citj 
From  tl 

sav 
From  th 

the 
Seizes  tl 

tot 
Deep  in 

mai 
Friends 

ing 

Asked  o 

nor 
Written 

chu 
Long  an 

war 
Lowly  a 

thii 
Fair  wa 

ten( 
Dreary  t 

pat] 
Marked 

su£f 
Passions 

aba: 


r  funeral 
farmer  of 
service  of 
:  of  a  vast 
its   roar 

680 

the  waste 
iving  and 
I  noise  of 
led  out  of 
e,  and  the 

065 

burning  of 
vessels  de- 
goods,  into 
:xample  in 
Acadian  s 

Hid 


■iiiiiiiPilii 


iiiiiliiiiii 


BVANGBLINB. 


Ill 


Scattered  were  they,  like  flakes  of  snow,  when  the 
wmd  from  the  northeast 

Strikes  aslant  through  the  fogs  that  darken  the  Banks 
of  Newfoundland. 

Friendless,  homeless,  hopeless,  they  wandered  from 
city  to  city. 

From  the  cold  lakes  of  the  North  to  sultry  Southern 
savannas — 

From  the  bleak  shores  of  the  sea  to  the  lands  where 
the  Father  of  Waters  "^ 

Seizes  the  hills  in  his  hands,  and  drags  them  down 
to  the  ocean. 

Deep  in  their  sands  to  bury  the  scattered  bones  of  the 
mammoth. 

Friends  they  sought  and  homes;  and  many,  despair- 
ing, heart-broken. 

Asked  of  the  earth  but  a  grave,  and  no  longer  a  friend 
nor  a  fireside. 

Written  their  history  stands  on  tablets  of  stone  in  the 
churchyards.  *» 

Long  among  them  was  seen  a  maiden  who  waited  and 
wandered, 

Lowly  and  meek  in  spirit,  and  patiently  suffering  all 
things. 

Fair  was  she  and  young;  but,  alas!  before  her  ex- 
tended. 

Dreary  and  vast  and  silent,  the  desert  of  life,  with  its 
pathway 

Marked  by  the  graves  of  those  who  had  sorrowed  and 
su£fered  before  her,  •* 

Passions  long  extinguished,  and  hopes  long  dead  and 
abandoned, 


ill 


■m-. 


■^'mmmm 


112 


BVANOBLINS. 


As  the  emigrant's  way  o'er  the  Western  desert  is 

marked  oy  ,  ,       "     ,    .  1.1      u  • 

Camp-fires  long  consumed,  and  bones  that  bleach  in 

the  sunshine. 

Something  there  was  in  her  life  incomplete,  imper- 
fect, unfinished;            .  ,     „  .  .        j 

As  if  a  morning  of  June,  with  all  its  music  and  sun- 

SuddlnTy  paused  in  the  sky,  and  fading,  slowly  de- 
scended .   ,  .   ,    J 

Into  the  east  again,  from  whence  it  late  had  arisen 

Sometimes  she  lingered  in  towns,  till,  urged  by  the 
fever  within  her,  j^u-    *    f 

Urged  by  a  restless  longing,  the  hunger  and  thirst  of 

She  woull  commence  again  her  endless  search  an^ 
endeavor; 

Sometimes  in  churchyards  strayed,  and  gazed  on  the 
crosses  and  toinbstones, 

Sat  by  some  nameless  grav^,  and  thought  that  per- 
haps in  its  bosom, 

He  was  already  at  rest,  and  she  longed  to  slumber 

beside  him.  .        .     ,  ,      ,  . 

Sometimes  a  rumor,  a  hearsay,  an  inarticulate  whisper, 

Came  with  its  airy  hand  to  point  and  beckon  her  for 

ward.  .  ,      ,    1  1. 

Sometimes  she  spake  with  those  who  had  seen  her 

beloved  and  known  him. 

But  it  was  long  ago,  in  some  far-off  place  or  forgot- 

ten 
"Gabriel Lajeunesse I"  they  said;  "Oh, yes  1  we  have 

seen  him. 


He  was 

got 
Coureui 

tra] 
"Gabrie 

ha\ 
He  is  a 
Then  w 

wai 
Are  the: 
Who  hs 

loy; 

Here  is 

lov 

Many  a 

Then  w 

"I 
Whithe 

anc 
For  wh 

illu 
Many  tl 

dai 
Thereu] 

fes! 
Said,  w 

spe 

Talk  n 
wai 

If  it  en 
tui 


desert  is 
)leach  in 
e,  imper- 
and  sun- 
lowly  de- 
arisen 
d  by  the 

i  thirst  of 
arch  and 

ed  on  the 

that  per- 

o  slumber 

e  whisper, 
in  her  for- 

700 

seen  her 
or  forgot- 
sl  we  have 


MMM 


vlw 


BVAN08LINH. 


113 


He  was  with  Basil  the  blacksmith,  and  both  have 

gone  to  the  prairies ; 
Coureurs-des-bois  are  they,  and  famous  hunters  and 

trappers."  ^* 

"Gabriel  Lajeunessel"    said  others;    "Oh,  yes!  we 

have  seen  him. 
He  is  a  voyageur  in  the  lowlands  of  Louisiana." 
Then  would  they  say,  "  Dear  child !  why  dream  and 

wait  for  him  longer  ? 
Are  there  not  other  youths  as  fair  as  Gabriel  ?  Others 
Who  have  hearts  as  tender  and  true,  and  spirits  as 

loyal?  "" 

Here  is  Baptiste  Leblanc,  the  notary's  son,  who  has 

loved  thee 
Many  a  tedious  year;  come,  give  him  thy  hand  and 

be  happy !" 
Then  would  Evangeline  answer,  serenely  but  sadly, 

"  I  cannot ! 
Whither  my  heart  has  gone,  there  follows  my  hand, 

and  not  elsewhere.  ^** 

For  when  the  heart  goes  before,  like  a  lamp,  and 

illumines  the  pathway. 
Many  things  are  made  clear,  that  else  lie  hidden  in 

darkness." 
Thereupon  the  priest,  her  friend  and    father  con- 
fessor, 
Said,  with  a  smile,   "O  daughter!    thy   God  thus 

speaketh  within  thee ! 
Talk  not  of  wasted  affection,  affection  never  was 

wasted;  '" 

If  it  enrich  not  the  heart  of  another,  its  waters,  re- 
turning 


9 


mam 


wH^ 


114 


BVANOBUNB. 


Back  to  their  springs,  like  the  rain,  shall  fill  them 

full  of  refreshment ; 
That  which  the  fountain  sends  forth  returns  again  to 

the  fountain. 
Patience;  accomplish'thy  labor;  accomplish  thy  work 

of  affection ! 
Sorrow  and  silence  are  strong,  and  patient  enduranw 

is  godlike.  .n   i.    i.      * 

Therefore  accomplish  thy  labor  of  love,  till  the  heart 

is  made  godlike. 
Purified,  strengthened,  oerfectcd,  and  rendered  more 

worthy  of  heaven  1  ' 
Cheered  by  the  good  man's  words,  Evangeline  labored 

and  waited.  -    , 

Still  in  her  heart  she  heard  the  funeral  dirge  of  the 

But  with  'its  sound  there  was  mingled  a  voice  that 

whispered,  "  Despair  not ! " 
Thus  did  that  poor  soul  wander  in  want  and  cheerless 

discomfort,  . 

Bleeding,  barefooted,  over  the  shards  and  thorns  ot 

Let  me  essay,  O  Musel  to  follow  the  wanderer's  foot- 
Not  through  each  devious  path,  each  changeful  year 

of  existence; 
But  as  a  traveler  follows  a  streamlet's  course  through 

the  valley:  ,.1,1 

Far  from  its  margin  at  times,  and  seeing  the  gleam 

of  its  water  ,    ^  •  ^        u 

Here  and  there,  in  some  open  space,  and  at  intervals 

only; 


Then  ^ 
glo 

Thougl 
mu 

Happy, 
an 


It  wa 

Ri 
Past  th 

ba! 
Into  thi 

sis 
Floated 

boi 
It  was 

8h 
Nation 

ge 
Bound 

mi 
Men  ai 

or 
Sought 

ac 
On  th 

lo 
With 

Fi 
Onwai 

sc 


V 


mi 


mmmm. 


MmPH 


»*H 


BVANOBLINB. 


115 


fill  them 
(  again  to 
thy  work 
ndurance 
the  heart 
ired  more 
le  labored 
rge  of  the 

voice  that 

•no 

cheerless 

thorns  of 

irer's  foot- 

^eful  year 

se  through 

786 

the.  gleam 
it  intervals 


Then  drawing  nearer  its  banks,    through    sylvan 

glooms  that  conceal  it,  . 
Though  he  behold  it  not,  he  can  hear  it.>  continuous 

murmur;  ,  , 

Happy,  at  length,  if  he  find  a  spot  where  it  reaches 

an  outlet. 

SEVENTH  READING. 

It  was  the  month  of  May.    Far  down  the  Beautiful 

River,  ,     •    «     ^ir 

Past  the  Ohio  shore  and  past  the  mouth  of  the  Wa- 

bash|  1       *       'r    \it' 

Into  the  golden  stream  of  the  broad  and  swift  Mis- 
sissippi, .  .      -      ,. 
Floated  a  cumbrous  boat,  that  was  rowed  by  Acadian 

boatmen.  .  r        *i. 

It  was  a  band  of  exiles:  a  raft,  as  it  were,  from  the 
shipwrecked 

Nation,  scattered  along  the  coast,  now  floating  to- 
gether, ,    ,.  r       J 

Bound  by  the  bonds  of  a  common  belief  and  a  com- 
mon misfortune;  .,  ,  ,     t. 

Men  and  women  and  children,  who,  guided  by  hope 
or  by  hearsay. 

Sought  for  their  kith  and  their  kin  among  the  few- 

"^         acred  farmers  .  .        ^  r  •    r\ 

On  the  Acadian  coast,  and  the  prairies  of  fair  O^p^ 

lousas.  -J      ii. 

With  them  Evangeline  went,  and  her  guide,  tlie 

Father  Felician. 
Onward  o'er  sunken  sands,  through  a  wilderness 
sombre  with  forests, 


t<     ; 


116 


EVANGELINE. 


Day  after  day  they  glided  adown  the  turbulent 
river: . 

Night  after  night,  by  their  blazing  fires,  encamped  on 
its  borders. 

Now  through  rushing  chutes,  among  green  islands, 
where  plumelike 

Cotton-trees  nodded  their  shadowy  crests,  they  swept 
with  the  current. 

Then  emerged  into  broad  lagoons,  where  silvery  sand- 
bars 

Lay  in  the  stream,  and  along  the  wimpling  waves  of 
their  margin, 

Shining  with  snow-white  plumes,  large  flocks  of  pel- 
icans waded. 

Level  the  landscape  grew,  and  along  the  shores  of  the 

•  760 

river. 

Shaded  by  china-trees,  in  the  midst  of  luxuriant  gar- 
dens, 

Stood  the  houses  of  planters,  with  negro  cabins  and 
dove-cots. 

They  were  approaching  the  region  where  reigns  per- 
petual summer. 

Where  through  the  Golden  Coast,  and  groves  of 
orange  and  citron. 

Sweeps  with  majestic  curve  the  river  away  to  the 
eastward. 

They;  too,  swerved  from  their  course;  and,  entering 
the  .Bayou  of  Plaquemine, 

Soon  were  lost  in  a  maze  of  sluggish  and  devious 
waters. 

Which,  like  a  network  of  steel,  extended  in  every 
direction. 


Over  tl 

of 
Met  in 

ail 
Waved 

cat 
Deathli 

th 
Home  1 

SU1 

Orbyl 

lat 
Lovely 

on 
Gleamc 

tai 
Down  t 

ch 

Dreaml 
ar< 

And  o'< 
an 

Strang( 
coi 

At:,  at  1 

Far  in 
mi 

So,  at  1 
ev 

Shrink 
ha 


''mm:^^'is:~.i-''i^>^mxi^'f^m<^^«.-''<it'--^*»'-' 


mmammmmmmm^ 


^^^^^^Ta^ay^^E!isIi 


EVANGBLINB. 


117 


turbulent 
icamped  on 
en  islands, 

7.-.r. 

they  swept 
ilvery  sand- 
Lg  waves  of 

x:ks  of  pel- 
liores  of  the 

780 

curiant  gar- 
cabins  and 
reigns  per- 

1  groves  of 
iway  to  the 
id,  entering 
ind  devious 
id  in  every 


Over  their  heads  the  towering  and  tenebrous  boughs 
of  the  cypress  •       , 

Met  in  a  dusky  arch,  and  trailing  mosses  in  mid- 
air ^™ 

Waved  like  banners  that  hang  on  the  walls  of  ancient 
cathedrals. 

Deathlike  the  silence  seemed,  and  unbroken,  save  by 
the  herons 

Home  to  their  roosts  in  the  cedar-trees  returning  at 
sunset, 

Or  by  the  owl,  as  he  greeted  the  moon  with  demoniac 
laughter. 

Lovely  the  moonlight  was  as  it  glanced  and  gleamed 
on  the  water,  ""^ 

Gleamed  on  the  columns  of  cypress  and  cedar  sus- 
taining the  arches, 
Down  through  whose  broken  vaults  it  fell  as  through 

chinks  in  a  ruin. 
Dreamlike,  and  indistinct,  and  strange  were  all  things 

around  them ; 
And  o'er  their  spirits  there  came  a  feeling  of  wonder 

and  sadness, — 
Strange  forebodings  of  ill,  unseen  and  that  cannot  be 

compassed.  "** 

At:,  at  the  tramp  of  a  horse's  hoof  on  the  turf  of  the 

prairies. 
Par  in  advance  are  closed  the  leaves  of  the  shrinking 

mimosa. 
So,  at  the  hoof-beats  of  fate,  with  sad  forebodings  of 

evil, 
Shrinks  and  closes  the  heart,  ere  the  stroke  of  doom 

has  attained  it 


i 


% 


iiiiilKIIWJill 


Bl^ 


.  .11 


lid 


SVAMGBI.IN8. 


.. 


But  Evangeline's  heart  was  sustained  by  a  vision, 

that  faintly  ,         t. 

Floated  before  her  eyes,  and  beckoned  her  on  through 

the  moonlight. 
It  was  the  thought  of  her  brain  that  assumed  the 

shape  of  a  phantom. 
Through  those  shadowy  aisles  had  Gabriel  wandered 

before  her, 
And  every  stroke  of  the  oar  now  brought  him  nearer 

and  nearer. 

Then,  in  his  place,  at  the  prow  of  the  boat,  rose 

one  of  the  oarsmen. 
And,  as  a  signal  sound,  if  others  like  them  perad- 

venture 
Sailed  on  those  gloomy  and  midnight  streams,  blew 

a  blast  on  his  bugle. 
Wild  through  the  dark  colonnades  and  corridors  leafy 

the  blast  rang,  ,     .  . 

Breaking  the  seal  of  silence  and  giving  tongues  to 

the  forest.  .    .  ^-     j 

Soundless  above  them  the  banners  of  moss  jUSt  stirr^ 

to  the  music. 
Multitudinous  echoes  awoke  and  died  in  the  distance, 
Over  the  watery  floor,  and  beneath  the  reverberant 

branches; 
But  not  a  voice  replied;   no  answer  came  from  the 

darkness; 
And  when  the  echoes  had  ceased,  like  a  sense  of  pam 

was  the  silence. 
Then  Evangeline  slept;    but  the  boatmen  rowe^ 

through  the  laidnight, 


Silent  a 

son 
Such  as 
While  t 

sou 
Far  off, 

for< 
Mixed  > 

the 

Thus 

shs 
Lay,  in 
Water-1 

tioi 
Made  b 

the 
Lifted! 

me 
Faint  v 

lia 
And  wi 

isl 
Fragrai 

he 
Near  tc 

sk 
Soon  b; 

SUl 

Under 
th 

Safely 
thi 


a  vision, 

n  through 

umed  the 

wandered 

lim  nearer 

boat,  rose 
lem  perad- 
eams,  blew 

idors  leafy 
tongues  to 
just  stirred 

IK 

le  distance, 
reverberant 

e  from  the 

:nse  of  pain 

men   rowed 


BKL. 


BVANGBUM^. 


no 


Silent  at  times,  then  singing  familiar  Canadian  boat- 
songs, 

Such  as  they  sang  of  old  on  their  own  Acadian  nvers. 

While  through  the  night  were  heard  the  mysterious 
sounds  of  the  desert. 

Far  off, — indistinct, — as  of  wave  or  wind  in  the 
forest. 

Mixed  with  the  whoop  of  the  crane  and  the  roar  of 
the  grim  alligator. 

Thus  ere  another  noon  they  emerged  from  the 
shades ;  and  before  them 

Lay,  in  the  golden  sun,  the  lakes  of  the  Atchafalaya. 

Water-lilies  m  myriads  rocked  on  the  slight  undula- 
tions 

Made  by  the  passing  oars,  and,  resplendent  in  beauty, 

the  lotus 

Lifted  her  golden  crown  above  the  heads  of  the  boat- 
men. 

Faint  was  the  air  with  the  odorous  breath  of  magno- 
lia blossoms, 

And  with  the  heat  of  noon;  and  numberless  sylvan 
islands. 

Fragrant  and  thickly  embowered  with  blossoming 
hedges  of  roses. 

Near  to  whose  shores  they  glided  along,  invited  to 
slumber. 

Soon  by  the  fairest  of  these  their  weary  oars  were 
suspended. 

Under  the  boughs  of  Wachita  willows,  that  grew  by 
the  margin, 

Safely  their  boat  was  moored;  and  scattered  about  on 
the  greensward, 


120 


BVANOBUNa. 


Tired  with  their  midnight  toil,  the  weary  travellers 
slumbered. 

Over  them  vast  and  high  extended  the  cope  of  a 
cedar. 

Swinging  from  its  great  arms,  the  trumpet-flower  and 
the  grapevine 

Hung  their  ladder  of  ropes  aloft  like  the  ladder  of 
Jacob, 

On  whose  pendulous  stairs  the  angels  ascending,  de- 
scending, 

Were  the  swift  humming-birds,  that  flitted  from  blos- 
som to  blossom. 

Such  was  the  vision  Evangeline  saw  as  she.slumbered 
beneath  it. 

Filled  was  her  heart  with  love,  and  the  dawn  of  an 

.  1  835 

opening  heaven 
Lighted  her  soul  in  sleep  with  the  glory  of  regions 
celestial. 

Nearer,  ever  nearer,  among  the  numberless  islands, 

Darted  a  light,  swift  boat,  that  sped  away  o'er  the 
water, 

Urged  on  its  course  by  the  sinewy  arms  of  hunters 
and  trappers. 

Northward  its  prow  was  turned,  to  the  land  of  the 
bison  and  beaver.  ^^ 

At  the  helm  sat  a  youth,  with  countenance  thought- 
ful and  careworn. 

Dark  and  neglected  locks  overshadowed  his  brow,  and 
a  sadness 

Somewhat  beyond  his  years  on  his  face  was  legibly 
written. 


Gabriel 

and 

Sought  i 

son 

Swiftly  1 

isla 

But  by  1 

met 

So  that 

inl 

All  und 

wei 

Angel  0 

ing 

Swiftly 

the 

After  tl 

inl 

As  fron 

ma 

Said  wi' 

Fe 

Someth 

wa 

Is  it  a  i 

Or  has 

spj 

Then,  1 

lot 

Unto  e 

mc 

But  ma 

as 


A 


travellers 
:ope  of  a 
flower  and 

KM) 

ladder  of 
ading,  de- 
from  blos- 
sluinbered 
Lwn  of  an 

835 

of  regions 

;ss  islands, 
y  o'er  the 

of  hunters 

,nd  of  the 

e  thought- 

s  brow,  and 

vas  legibly 


■■>»^mmmmmmmiim 


mmmm 


inmmm09ma\ rn»t 


^\ 


BVANGBLINB. 


121 


Gabriel  was  it,  who,  weary  with   waiting,  unhappy 
and  restless,  ir       j     r 

Sought  in  the  Western  wilds  oblivion  of  self  and  <A 
sorrow. 

Swiftly  they  glided  along,  close  under  the  lee  of  the 
island, 

But  by  the  opposite  bank,  and  behind  a  screen  of  pal- 
mettos; 

So  that  they  saw  not  the  boat,  where  it  lay  concealed 
in  the  willows; 

All  undisturbed  by  the  dash  of  their  oars,  and  unseen, 
were  the  sleepers; 

Angel  of  God  was  their  none  to  awaken  the  slumber- 
ing maiden.  ,      ^      ,     ■• 

Swiftly  they  glided  away,  like  the  shade  of  a  cloud  on 
the  prairie.  .  ,    ,    ,.  j 

After  the  sound  of  their  oars  on  the  tholes  had  died 
in  the  distance, 

As  from  a  magic  trance  the  sleepers  awoke,  and  the 
maiden 

Said  with  a  sigh  to  the  friendly  priest,  "O   Father 
Felician!  «  ,   •  i 

Something  says  in  my  heart  that  near  me  Gabriel 
wanders. 

Is  it  a  foolish  dream,  an  idle  and  vague  superstition? 

Or  has  an  angel  passed,  and  revealed  the  truth  to  my 
spirit?"  ^  , 

Then,  with  a  blnsh,  she  added,  "Alas  for  my  credu- 
lous fancyl 

Unto  ears  like  thine  such  words  as  these  have  no 


meaning, 


)> 


But  made  answer  the  reverened  man,  and  he  smiled 
as  he  answered, — 


«f. 


122 


BVANGKLINB. 


"i 


"Daughter,  thy  words  are  not  idle;  nor  are  they  to 

me  without  meaning, 
Feeling  is  deep  and  still;  and  the  word  that  floats  on 

the  surface 
Is  as  the  tossing  buoy,  that  betrays  where  the  anchor 

is  hidden. 
Therefore  trust  to  thy  heart,  and  to  what  the  world 

calls  illusions. 
Gabriel  truly  is  near  thee;  for  not  far  away  to  the 

southward, 
On  the  banks  of  the  Teche,  are  the  towns  of  St. 

Maur  and  St.  Martin. 
There  the  long-wandering  bride  shall  be  given  again 

to  her  bridegroom. 
There  the  long-absent  pastor  regain  his  flock  and  his 

sheepfold. 
Beautiful  is  the  land,  with  its  prairies  and  forests  of 

fruit-trees; 
Under  the  feet  a  garden  of  flowers,  and  the  bluest  of 

«  800 

heavens 
Bending  above,  and  resting  its  dome  on  the  walls  of 

the  forest. 
They  who  dwell  there  have  named  it  the  Eden  of 

Louisiana." 

With  these  words  of  cheer  they  arose  and  con- 
tinued their  journey. 

Softly  the  evening  came.  The  sun  from  the  western 
horizon 

Like  a  magician  extended  his  golden  wand  o'er  the 
landscape; 

Twinkling  vapors  arose;  and  sky  and  water  and  forest 


Seemed 

mil 
Haugiu; 

silv 
Floated 

tioi 
Filled  ^ 

sw« 
Toucho 

fee' 
Glowed 

arc 
Then  ft 

wil 
Swingii 

wa 
Shook  i 

mv 
That  t 

see 

PlaintiA 

to 
Seemed 

Ba 
Single 

eni 
Till,  ha 

in 
As  whe 

tre 
Shakes 


e  they  to 
:  floats  on 
he  anchor 
the  world 
vay  to  the 

855 

ns  of  St. 
ven  again 
:k  and  his 
forests  of 
:  bluest  of 

860 

le  walls  of 
le  Eden  of 

i  and  con- 
he  western 
d  o'er  the 
r  and  forest 


(MMMOMMMMI 


BVANGBUNB. 


123 


Seemed  all  on  fire  at  the  touch ;  and  melted  and 

mingled  together. 
Hanging  between  two  skies,  a  cloud  with  edges  of 

silver, 
Floated  the  boat,  with  its  dripping  oars,  on  the  mo- 
tionless water. 
Filled  was   Evangeline's   heart   with  inexpressible 

sweetness.  "^ 

Touched  by  the  magic  spell,  the  sacred  fountains  of 

feeling 
Glowed  with  the  light  of  love,  as  the  skies  and  waters 

around  her. 
Then  from  a  neighboring  thicket  the  mocking-bird, 

wildest  of  singers, 
Swinging  aloft  on  a  willow  spray  that  hung  o'er  the 

water. 
Shook  from  his  little  throat  such  floods  of  delirious 

music  *" 

That  the  whole  air  and  the  woods  and  the  waves 

seemed  silent  to  listen. 
Plaintive  at  first  were  the  tones,  and  sad;  then  soaring 

to  madness 
Seemed  they  to  follow  or  guide  the  revel  of  frenzied 

Bacchantes. 
Single  notes  were  then  heard,  in  sorrowful,  low,  lam- 
entation ; 
Till,  having  gathered  them  all,  he  flung  them  abroad 

in  derision,  *" 

As  when,  after  a  storm,  a  gust  of  wind  through  the 

tree-tops 
Shakes  down  the  rattling  rain  in  a  crystal  shower  00 

the  branches, 


m 


i 


ffi'immiinUB 


124 


BVANGBLINB. 


11. 


With  such  a  prelude  as  this,  and  hearts  that  throbbed 
with  emotion, 

Slowly  they  entered  the  Teche,  where  it  flows  through 
the  green  Opelousas, 

And,  through  the  amber  air,  above  the  crest  of  the 
woodland. 

Saw  the  column  of  smoke  that  arose  from  a  neigh- 
boring dwelling ;—  ,      ■    ,.  ,      • 

Sounds  of  a  horn  they  heard,  and  the  distant  lowing 
of  cattle. 

EIGHTH  READING. 

Near  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  o'ershadowed  by 
oaks  from  whose  branches 

Garlands  of  Spanish  moss  and  of  mystic  mistletoe 
flaunted, 

Such  as  the  Druids  cut  down  with  golden  hatchets  at 
Yule-tide,  ...    J 

Stood,  secluded  and  still,  the  house  of  the  herdsman. 
A  garden 

Girded  it  round  about  with  a  belt  of  luxuriant  blos- 
soms, ^,     ,  .      ,r 

Filling  the  air  with  fragrance.    The  house  itself  was 

of  timbers  .  „    ^     j 

Hewn  from  the  cypress-tree,  and  carefully  fitted  to- 
gether. 
Large  and  low  was  the  roof;  and  on  slender  column^ 

supported,  ,       ,       •,  • 

Rose-wreathed,  vine-encircled,  a  broad  and  spacious 

veranda. 
Haunt  of  the  humming-bird  and  the  bee,  extended 

around  it. 


At  each 

gar< 
Statione 

bol. 
Scenes  c 

rivs 
Silence 

and 
Ran  net 

was 
And  fro 

par 
Into  the 

ros 
In  the  I 

pat 
Throng 

lin 
Into  wb 

ing 
Full  in 

cai 
Hangii 

in 
Stood  s 

grj 

Just 
th< 

Mount* 
sti 

Sat  a 
de 


»mmm 


;  throbbed 
s  through 
est  of  the 

88.-1 

a  neigh- 
LUt  lowing 


dowed  by 

mistletoe 

latchets  at 

HO 

herdsman, 
riant  blos- 
I  itself  was 
y  fitted  to- 
sr  columns 

895 

d  spacious 
;,  extended 


BVANGBUNH. 


125 


At  each  end  of  the  house,  amid  the  flowers  of  the 
garden, 

Stationed  the  dove-cots  were,  as  love's  perpetual  sym- 
bol. 

Scenes  of  endless  wooing,  and  endless  contentions  of 
rivals. 

Silence  reigned  o'er  the  place.    The  line  of  shadow 
and  sunshine 

Ran  near  the  tops  of  the  trees;  but  the  house  itself 
was  in  shadow, 

And  from  its  chimney-top,  ascending  and  slowly  ex- 
panding 

Into  the  evening  air,  a  thin  blue  column  of  smoke 
rose. 

In  the  rear  of  the  house,  from  the  garden  gate,  ran  a 
pathway 

Through  the  great  groves  of  oak  to  the  skirts  of  the 
limitless  prairie. 

Into  whose  sea  of  flowers  the  sun  was  slowly  descend- 
ing. 

Full  in  his  track  of  light,  like  ships  with  shadowy 

canvas  .     ,  i 

Hanging  loose  from  their  spar  in  a  motionless  calm 

in  the  tropcis. 
Stood  a  cluster  of  trees,  with  tangled  cordage  of 

grapevines. 

Just  where  the  woodlands  met  the  flowery  surf  of 

the  prairie, 
Mounted  upon  his  horse,  with  Spanish  saddle  and 

stirrups, 
Sat  a  herdsman,  arrayed  in  gaiters  and  doublet  of 

deerskin. 


.,; 


m 


mmt^mm^gm, 


126 


BVANOBUNV. 


»2») 


Broad  and  brown  was  the  face  that  from  under  the 

Spanish  sombrero 
Gazed  on  the  peaceful  scene,  with  the  lordly  look  of 

Its  master. 
Round  about  him  were  numberless  herds  of  kine  that 

were  grazing 
Quietly  in  the  meadows,  and  breathing  the  vapory 

freshness 
That  uprose  from  the  river,  and  spread  itself  over  the 

landscape. 
Slowly  lifting  the  horn  that  hung  at  his  s*de,  and 

expanding 
Fully  his  broad,  deep  chest,  he  blew  a  blast,  that  re 

sounded 
Wildly  and  sweet  and  far,  through  the  still  dan.],  air 

of  the  evening. 
Suddenly  out  of  the  grass  the  long  white  horns  of  the 

cattle 
Rose  like  flakes  of  foam  on  the  adverse  currents  of 

ocean . 

Silent  a  moment  they  gazed,  then  bellowing  rushed 
o'er  the  prairie, 

And  the  whole  mass  became  a  cloucl,  a  shade  in  the 
distance. 

Then,  as  the  herdsman  turned  to  the  house,  through 
tbfe  gate  of  the  garden 

Saw  he  the  forms  of  the  priest  and  the  iriaiden  ad- 
vancing to  meet  him. 

Suddenly  down  from  his  horse  he  sprang  in  amaze- 
ment, and  forward 

Pushed  with  extended  arms  and  exclamations  of  won- 
der; 


Whent 

bla 
Hearty 

gai 
There  i 

an: 
Gave  t1 

fri« 
Laughi 

the 

Thougl 

doi 
Stole  o' 

em 
Broke 

At 
How  h 

boi 
OverE 

Tears  < 
ul< 

"Gone? 
on 

All  hei 
an 

Thent 
as 

"Be  of 
de 

Foolisl 


SVANOBLINB. 


127 


under  the 
ily  look  of 
>f  kine  that 
the  vapory 
elf  over  the 
is  side,  and 
ist,  that  re- 
11  dattij.  air 
lomsof  the 
currents  of 
ring  rushed 
lade  in  the 

925 

se,  through 
niaiden  ad- 
5  in  amaze- 
ions  of  won- 


When  they  beheld  his  face,  they  recognized  Basil  the 

blacksmith. 
Hearty  his  welcome  was,  as  he  led  his  guests  to  the 

garden. 
There  in  an  arbor  of  roses  with  endless  question  and 

answer 
Gave  they  vent  to  their  hearts,  and  renewed  their 

friendly  embraces, 
lyaughing  and  weeping  by  turns,  or  sitting  silent  and 

thoughtful. 
Thoughtful,  for  Gabriel  came  not;  and  now  dark 

doubts  and  misgivings  ** 

Stole  o'er  the  maiden's  heart;  and  Basil,  somewhat 

embarrassed, 
Broke  the  silence  and  said,   "If  you  came  by  the 

Atchafalaya, 
How  have  you  nowhere  encountered  my  Gabriel's 

boat  on  the  bayous?" 
Over  Evangeline's  face  at  the  words  of  Basil  a  shade 


Tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  she  said,  with  a  trem- 
ulous accent, 

"Gone?  is  Gabriel  gone?"  and,  concealing  her  face 
on  his  shoulder^ 

All  her  o'erburdened  heart  gave  way,  and  she  wept 
and  lamented. 

Then  the  good  Basil  said,— and  his  voice  grew  blithe 
as  he  said  it, — 

"Be  of  good  cheer,  my  child;  it  is  only  today  he 
departed. 

Foolish  boyl  he  has  left  me  alone  Avith  my  herds  and 
my  horses. 


P 


m 


946 


mmmmm 


'h     * 


128 


8VAKOBUNS. 


Moody  and  restless  grown,  and  tried  and  troubled,  liis 
spirit 

Could  no  longer  endure  the  calm  of  this  quiet  exis- 
tence. 

Thinking   ever    of   thee,  uncertain  and   sorrowful 

ever, 
Ever  silent,  or  speaking  only  of  thee  and  his  troubles, 

He  at  length  had  become  so  tedious  to  men  and  to 

maidens, 
Tedious  even  to  me,  that  at  length  I  bethought  me, 

and  sent  him 
Unto  the  town  of  Adayes  to  trade  for  mules  with  the 

Spaniards. 
Thence  he  will  follow  the  Indian  trails  to  the  Ozark 

Mountains, 
Hunting  for  furs  in  the  forests,  on   rivers  trapping 

the  beaver.  . 

Therefore  be  of  good  cheer;  we  will  follow  the  fu^ 

tive  lover; 
He  is  not  far  on  his  way,  and  the  Fates  and  the 

streams  are  against  him. 
Up  and  away  tomorrow,  and  through  the  red  dew  of 

the  morning, 
We  will  follow  him  fast,  and  bring  him  back  to  his 


prison 


» 


Then  glad  voices  were  heard,   and  up  from  the 
banks  of  the  river, 
Borne  aloft  on  his  comrades'  arms,  came  Michael  the 
fiddler.  ^    **" 

Long  under  Basil's  roof  had  he  lived,  like  a  god  on 

Olympus, 


Having 
tals 

Far  ren 
fidd 

"Long  1 
mir 

As  they 
stra 

Father  ] 

the 
Kindly 

enr 
Hailed 

gos 
Laughii 

dai: 
Muchtl 

bla 
All  his 

del 
Much  tl 

the 
And  of 

wh 
Each  01 

an< 
Thustl 

vei 
Entere( 

SU] 

Waited 
tog 


URMWWI 


>ubled,  liis 

luiet  exis- 

sorrowful 

is  troubles, 
len  and  to 

ought  tne, 
>s  with  the 
the  Ozark 
s  trapping 
7  the  fugl- 
es and  the 

red  dew  of 
»ack  to  his 

t  from   the 


Michael  the 

980 

;  a  god  on 


EVANOKUNK.  129 

Having  no  other  care  than  dispensing  music  to  mor- 
tals. 
Far  renowned  was  he  for  his  silver  locks  and  his 

fiddle. 
"Long  live  Michael,"  they  cried,  "our  brave  Acadian 

minstrell" 
As  they  bore  him  aloft  in  triumphal  procession;  and 
straightway  ** 

Father  Felician  advanced  with  Evangeline,  greeting 

the  old  man 
Kindly  and  oft,  and  recalling  the  past,   while   Basil, 

enraptured, 
Hailed  with  hilarious  joy  his  old  companions  and 

gossips, 
Laughing  loud  and  long,  and  embracing  mothers  and 

daughters. 
Much  they  marvelled  to  see  the  wealth  of  the  ci-devant 
blacksmith,  "" 

All  his  domains  and  his  herds,  and  his  patriarchal 

demeanor ; 
Much  they  marvelled  to  hear  bis  tales  of  the  soil  and 

the  climate, 
And  of  the  prairies,  whose  numberless  herds  were  his 

who  would  take  them ; 
Each  one  thought  in  his  heart,  that  he,  too,  would  go 

and  do  likewise. 
Thus  they  ascended  the  steps,  and,  crossing  the  breezy 

veranda, 
Entered  the  hall  of  the  house,  where  already  the 

supper  of  Basil 
Waited  his  late  return ;  and  they  rested  and  feasted 
together. 


ido 


KVANGKLINK. 


Over  the  joyous  feast  the  sudden  darkness  de- 
scended. 

All  was  silent  without,  and,  illuming  the  landscape 
with  silver. 

Fair  rose  the  dewy  moon  and  the  myriad  stars;  but 
within  doors, 

Brighter  than  these,  shone  the  faces  of  friends  in  the 
glimmering  lamplight. 

Then  from  his  station  aloft,  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
the  herdsman  .        , 

Poured  forth  his  heart  and  his  wme  together  in  end- 
less profusion. 

Lighting  his  pipe,  that  was  filled  with  sweet  Natchi- 
toches tobacco,  ,  -I       J       -1  J 

Thus  he  spake  to  his  guests,  who  listened,  and  smile^ 
as  they  listened : — 

"Welcome  once  more,  my  friends,  who  long  have 
been  friendless  and  homeless. 

Welcome  once  more  to  a  home,  that,  is  better  per- 
chance than  the  old  one !  ,  ,     J  1M     *i,^ 

Here  no  hungry  winter  congeals  our  blood  like  tne 

Here  no  stony  ground  provokes  the  wrath  of  the 

farmer;  ,         ,     .        -i  „„  „ 

Smoothly  the  plowshare  runs  through  the  soil,  as^ 

keel  through  the  water.  . 

All  the  year  round  the  orange-groves  are  m  blossom , 

and  grass  grows 
More  in  a  single  night  than  a  whole  Canadian  sum- 

Here?T(i,  numberless  herds  run  wild  and  unclaimed 
in  the  prairies ; 


Here, 

fo 
With  J 

in 
After  3 

w: 
No  Ki 

fr 
Burnii 

fa 
Speak 

h: 
While 

01 
Sotha 

a: 
Sudde 

h 
But  t 

n 
"Onh 

For  it 
Cured 

a 
Then 

s 
Sonne 

V 

It  wa 

I 
Who 

t 


iKIIIIIIIllllllllHHIIIIWIIIf  ■>» 


EVANGEUNK. 


131 


irkness  de- 
i  landscape 

I  stars;  but 

wo 

lends  in  the 
if  the  table, 
ther  in  end- 
reet  Natchi- 

u  and  smiled 

^  see 

)  long  have 
i  better  per- 
lood  like  the 
vratH  of  the 
the  soil,  as  a 

900 

:  in  blossom ; 
nadian  sum- 
id  unclaimed 


Here,  too,  lands  may  be  had  for  the  asking,  and 

forests  of  timber  ,  >         j 

With  a  few  blows  of  the  axe  are  hewn  and  iramed 

into  houses. 
After  your  houses  are  built,  and  your  fields  are  yellow 

with  harvests. 
No  King  George  of  England  shall  drive  you  away 

from  your  homesteads. 
Burning  your  dwellings  and  bams,  and  stealing  your 

farms  and  your  cattle." 
Speaking  these  words,  he  blew  a  wrathful  cloud  from 

his  nostrils,  ,    .       j 

While  his  huge,  brown  hand  came  thundenng  do\m 

on  the  table,  t^  ,.  . 

So  that  the  guests  all  started;  and  Father  Felician, 

astounded,  «. ,    ir 

Suddenly  paused,  with  a  pinch  :>{  snuff  half-way  to 

his  nostrils. 
But  the  brave  Basil  resumed,  and  his  words  were 

milder  and  gayer:— 
"Only  beware  of  the  fever,  my  friends,  beware  of  the 

feverl  ,.        ,.  MM 

For  it  is  not  like  that  of  our  cold  Acadian  chmate. 
Cured  by  wearing  a  spider  hung  round  one's  neck  in 

a  nutshell!" 
Then  there  were  voices  heard  at  the  door,  and  foot- 
steps approaching 
Sounded  upon  the  stairs  and  the  floor  of  the  breezy 

veranda. 
It  was  the  neighboring  Creoles  and  small  Acadian 

planters, 
Who  had  been  summoned  all  to  the  house  of  Basil 

the  herdsman. 


Liuwiiiilii 


»'!-«J.-JI.JH|.,-lli,.UI.U,,-'-,  i 


.MHJUU 


132 


BVANCBLINB. 


Merry  the  meeting  was  of  ancient  comrades  and 

neighbors:  -i     t.  i. 

Friend  clasped  friend  in  hli  arms;  and  they  who 

before  were  as  strangers,  r  •     j     * 

Meeting  in  exile,  became  straightway  as  fnends  to 

each  other, 
Drawn  by  the  gentle  bond  of  a  common  country 

together.  . 

But  in  the  neighboring  hall  a  stram  of  music,  pro- 

From  the  accordant  strings  of  Michael's  melodious 

fiddle,  ■••••        i-Mj 

Broke  up  all  further  speech.     Away,  like  children 

delighted. 
All  things  forgotten  beside,  they  gave  themselves  to 

the  maddening 
Whirl  of  the  dizzy  dance  as  it  swept  and  swayed  to 

the  music,  ,    m  ^^ 

Dreamlike,  with  beaming  eyes  and  the  rush  of  flutter- 
ing  garments. 

Meanwhile,  apart,  at  the  head  of  the  hall,  the  priest 
and  the  herdsman 
Sat,  conversing  together  of  past  and  present  and 

While  Evangeline  stood  like  one  entranced,  for  within 

her 
Olden  memories  rose,  and  loud  in  the  midst  of  the 

music 
Heard  she  the  sound  of  the  sea,  and  an  irrepressible 

SSIQIICSS 

Came  o'er  her  heart,  and  unseen  she  stole  forth  into 
the  garden. 


,J3ffi*^ 


rwnwiMM«iat)JM 


-ades  and 
;hey  who 
friends  to 
1  country 
usic,  pro- 

WI5 

melodious 
i  children 
nselves  to 
swayed  to 
lofflutter- 

,  the  priest 
esent  and 
,  foi  within 
idst  of  the 
repressible 
forth  into 


BVANGSLINB. 


133 


Beautiful  was  the  night.     Behind  the  black  wall  of 

the  forest, 
Tipping  its  summit  with  silver,  arose  the  moon.     On 

the  river 
Fell  here  and  there  through  the  branches  a  tremulous 

gleam  of  the  moonlight, 
Like  the  sweet  thoughts  of  love  on  a  darkened  and 

devious  spint. 
Nearer  and  round  about  her,  the  manifold  flowers 

of  the  garden 
Poured  out  their  souls  in  odors,  that  were  their  prayers 

and  confessions 
Unto  the  night,  as  it  went  its  way,  like  a  silent 

Carthusian. 
Fuller  of  fragrance  than  they,  and  as  heavy  with 

shadows  and  night-dews, 
Hung  the  heart  of  the  maiden.    The   calm  and  the 

magical  moonlight 
Seemed  to  inundate  her  soul  with  indefinable  long- 
ings, 
As,  through  the  garden  gate,  and  beneath  the  shade 

of  the  oak-trees, 

Passed  she  along  the  path  to  the  edge  of  the  measure- 
less prairie. 

Silent  it  lay,  with  a  silvery  haze  upon  it,  and  fire^ies 

Gleaming  and  floating  away  in  mingled  and  infinite 
numbers. 

Over  her  head  the  stars,  the  thoughts  of  God  m  the 
heavens, 

Shone  on  the  eyes  of  man,  who  had  ceased  to  marvel 
and  worship. 

Save  when  a  blazing  comet  was  seen  on  the  walls  of 
that  temple, 


'4 


■Mij-wi"  iL    ,,  jt  vM\mmmmmf^^imi9mmmi^immfmmmi>f^ 


ii«in«Piipip>nN*M*>~ 


134 


BVANOBLINS. 


As  if  a  hand  had  appeared  and  written  upon  them, 

"Upharsin." 
And  the  soul  of  the  maiden,  between  the  stars  and 

the  fire-flies. 
Wandered  alone,  and  she  cried,  "O  Gabriel!  O  my 

beloved! 
Art  thou  so  near  unto  me,  and  yet  I  cannot  behold 

thei?  . 

Art  thou  so  near  unto  me,  and  yet  thy  voice  does  not 
reach  me? 

Ah!  how  often  thy  feet  have  trod  this  path  to  the 
prairie! 

Ah !  how  often  thine  eyes  have  looked  on  the  wood- 
lands around  me ! 

Ah!  how  often  beneath  this  oak,  returning  from  labor. 

Thou  hast  lain  down  to  rest,  and  to  dream  of  me  in 
thy  slumbers! 

When  shall  these  eyes  behold,  these  arms  be  folded 
about  thee?" 

Loud  and  sudden  and  near  the  note  of  a  whippoorwiU 
sounded 

Like  a  flute  in  the  woods ;  and  anon,  through  t^ 
neighboring  thickets. 

Farther  and  farther  away  it  floated  and  dropped  into 
silence. 

"Patience!"  whispered  the  oaks  from  oracular  cav- 
erns of  darkness ; 
And,  from  the  moonlit  meadow,  a  sigh  responded, 
"To-morrow!" 

Bright  rose  the  sun  next  day ;  and  all  the  flowers 
of  the  garden 


Bathed 

his 

With  tl 

of 

"  Farev 

shi 

"Seetl 

fa£ 

And,  t 

bri 

"  Fare\ 

Ba 

Down  1 

w« 

Thush 

sh 

Swiftlj 

sp 

Blown 

dc 

Notth 

ce 

Found 

ri 

Nor,  a 

ai 

Rumo 

d( 

Till,  a 

Wear 


■;itfls««»»«w-»»';*"ww' 


»«)Mi*«aHnmM 


on  them, 
itars  and 

1046 

ill  Omy 

)t  behold 

does  not 

th  to  the 

the  wood- 

loeo 

-om  labor, 
of  me  in 

be  folded 
ippoorwill 
rough  the 

I0» 

)pped  into 
cular  cav- 
esponded, 

:he  flowers 


BVANGBLIMtt. 


135 


Bathed  his  shining  feet  with  their  tears,  and  anointed 

his  tresses  .         . 

With  the  delicious  balm  that  they  bore  m  their  vases 

of  crystal. 
"Farewell!"    said  the  priest,  as  he  stood  at  the 

shadowy  threshold ;  «      /.        ,. 

"See  that  you  bring  us  the  Prodigal  Son  from  his 

fasting  and  famine, 
And,  too,  the  Foolish  Virgin,  who  slept  when  the 

bridegroom  was  coming."  

"  Farewell ! "  answered  the  maiden,  and,  smihng,  with 

Basil  descended 
Down  to  the  river's  brink,  where  the  boatmen  already 

were  waiting. 
Thus  beginning  their  journey  with  morning,  and  sun- 
shine, and  gladness,  . 
Swiftly  they  followed  the  flight  of  him  who  was 

speeding  before  them. 
Blown  by  the  blast  of  fate  like  a  dead  leaf  over  the 

Not  that  day,  nor  the  next,  nor  yet  the  day  that  sue- 

Found  they  trace  of  his  course,  in  lake  or  forest  or 

river, 
Nor,  after  many  days,  had  they  found  him ;  but  vague 

and  uncertain  .,j      ji 

Rumors  alone  were  their  guides  through  a  wild  and 

desolate  country ; 
Till,  at  the  little  inn  of  the  Spanish  town  of  Adayes, 
Weary  and  worn,  they  alighted,  and  learned  from  t^ 

garrulous  landlord  .,  , 

That  on  the  day  before,  with  horses  and  guides  and 

companions, 


li 


■  1  "WM  'wmmmmmmi''^'^ 


mm 


136 


EVANGELIKR. 


Gabriel  left  the  village,  and  took  the  road  of  the 
prairies.    ,- 

NINTH  READING. 

Far  in  the  West  there  lies  a  aesert  land,  where  the 

mountains 
Lift,  through  perpetual  snows,  their  lofty  and  lumi- 
nous summits. 
Down   from  their  jagged,  deep  ravines,  where  the 

gorge,  like  a  gateway. 
Opens  a  passage  rude  to  the  wheels  of  the  emigrant's 

wagon. 
Westward  the  Oregon  flows  and  the  Walleway  and 

Owyhee. 
Eastward,  with  devious  course,  among  the  Wind-rivre 

Mountains, 
Through  the  Sweet- water  Valley  precipitate  leaps  the 

Nebraska ; 
And  to  the  south,  from   Fontainetquibout  and  the 

Spanish  sierras,  /"" 

Fretted  with  sands  and  rocks,  and  swept  by  the  wind 

of  the  desert. 
Numberless  torrents,  with  ceaseless  sound,  descend 

to  the  ocean, 
Like  the  great  chords  of  a  harp,  in  loud  and  solemn 

vibrations. 
Spreading  between  these  streams  are  the  wondrous, 

beautiful  prairies, 
Billowy  bays  of  grass  ever  rolling  in  shadow  and  sun- 

shine, 
Bright  with  luxuriant  clusters  of  roses  and  purple 

amorphas. 


Over  th 
an( 

Over  tt 

les 
Fires  tl 

wil 
Over  tt 

chi 
Stainin 

ril 
Circles 

tui 
Like  tl 

in 
By  inv; 
Here  a 

sa' 
Here  a 

ru 

And  tl 
th 

Climbs 
th 

And  o 
he 

Like  1 
th 

Into 

Gabrie 
b< 


1  of  the 


irliere  the 
md  lumi- 

rhere  the 

loeo 

migrant's 
eway  and 
^ind-rivre 
leaps  the 
and  the 

1086 

the  wind 
,  descend 
id  solemn 
vondrous, 
1  and  sun- 

1080 

ad  purple 


BVANGBUNB. 


137 


Over  them  wandered  the  buffalo  herds,  and  the  elk, 
and  the  roebuck ; 

Over  them  wandered  the  wolves,  and  herds  of  rider- 
less horses ; 

Fires  that  blast  and  blight,  and  winds  that  are  weary 
with  travel ; 

Over  them  wander  the  scattered  tribes  of  Ishmael's 
children,  *"* 

Staining  the  desert  with  blood ;  and  above  their  ter- 
rible war-trails 

Circles  and  sails  aloft,  on  pinions  majestic,  the  vul- 
ture. 

Like  the  implacable  soul  of  a  chieftain  slaughtered 
in  battle. 

By  invisible  stairs  ascending  and  scaling  the  heavens. 

Here  and  there  rise  smokes  from  the  camps  of  these 
savage  marauders;  """ 

Here  and  there  rise  groves  from  the  margins  of  swift- 
running  rivers ; 

And  the  grim,  taciturn  bear,  the  anchorite  monk  of 
the  desert. 

Climbs  down  their  dark  ravines  to  dig  for  roots  by 
the  brook-side. 

And  over  all  is  the  sky,  the  clear  and  crystalline 
heaven. 

Like  the  protecting  hand  of  God  inverted  above 
them.  "* 


1106 


Into  this  wonderful  land,  at  the  base  of  the  Ozark 
Mountains, 
Gabriel  far  had  entered,  with  hunters  and  trappers 
behind  him. 


mmhmmmipmmk: 


138  BVANGKUNE. 

Day  after  day,  with  their  Indian  guides,  the  maiden 

and  Basil  ,  t.  j      * 

Followed  his  flying  steps,  and  thought  each  day  to 

o'ertake  him.  ,  .t.  i 

Sometimes  they  saw,  or  thought  they  saw,  the  smoke 

of  his  camp-fire 
Rise  in  the  morning  air  from  the  distant  plain;  but 

at  nightfall,  ,       r      j      i 

When  they  had  reached  the  place,  they  found  only 

embers  and  ashes.  j   u  • 

And,  though  their  hearts  were  sad  at  times  and  their 

bodies  were  weary, 
Hope  still  guided  them  on,  as  the  magic  Fata  Mor- 

ShowS'them  her  lakes  of  light,  that  retreated  and 
vanished  before  them. 

Once,  as  they  sat  by  their  evening  fire,  there  silently 

Into  the  little  camp  an  Indian  woman,  whose  features 

Wore  deep  traces  of  sorrow,  and  patience  as  great  as 

her  sorrow.  .  , 

She  was  a  Shawnee  woman  returning  home  to  tier 

Froir°the' far-off  hunting-grounds    of    the    cruel 

Camanches,  ^     v  • 

Where  her  Canadian  husband,   a  coureur-des-bois, 

had  been  murdered. 
Touched  were  their  hearts  at  her  story,  and  warmest 

and  friendliest  welcome 
Gave  they,  the  words  of  cheer,   and  she  sat  and 

feasted  among  them 


Onth< 
But  wl 


he  maiden 
,ch  day  to 
the  smoke 

UIO 

plain;  but 
bund  only 
s  and  their 
Fata  Mor- 
reated  and 

1115 

ere  silently 

ase  features 
as  great  as 

jme  to  her 

the    cruel 

iiao 

;ur-des-bois, 
md  warmest 
she  sat  and 


»«»M#  \,  J^i^^^^^MWm^M. 


BVANOBUNB. 


139 


On  the  buflFalo-meat  and  the  venison  cooked  on  the 

embers. 
But  when  their  meal  was  done,  and  Basil  and  all  his 

companions,  "® 

Worn  with  the  long  day's  march  and  the  chase  of  the 

deer  and  the  bison, 
.'Stretched  themselves  on  the  ground,  and  slept  where 

the  quivering  fire-light 
plashed  on  their  swarthy  cheeks,   and  their  forms 

wrapped  up  in  their  blankets, 
Then  at  the  door  of  Evangeline's  tent  she  sat  and 

repeated 
Slowly,  with  soft,  low  voice,  and  the  charm  of  her 

Indian  accent,  "* 

All  the  tale  of  her  love,  with  its  pleasures,  and  pains, 

and  reverses. 
Much  Evangeline  wept  at  the  tale,  and  to  know  that 

another 
Hapless  heart  like  her  own  had  loved  and  had  been 

disappointed. 
Moved  to  the  depths  of  her  soul  by  pity  and  woman's 

compassion. 
Yet  in  her  sorrow  pleased  that  one  who  had  sufifcred 

was  near  her,  "* 

She  in  turn  related  her  love  and  all  its  disasters. 
Mute  with  wonder  the  Shawnee  sat,  and  when   she 

had  ended 
Still  was  mute;  but  at  length,  as  if  a  mysterious 

horror 
Passed  through  her  brain,  she  spake,  and  repeated 

the  tale  of  the  Mowis; 
Mowis,  the  bridecfroom  of  snow,  who  won  and  wedded 

a  maiden. 


1 


1' 


lUO 


mmmmmmmmmif 


BVANOBUKS. 

But,  when  the  morning  came,  arose  and  passed  from 

the  wigwam,  ,    ,.      ,  .       •  *.     *i. 

Fading  and  melting  away  and  dissolvmg  mto  the 

Till  she  beheld  him  no  more,  though  she  followed  far 

into  the  forest. 
Then,  in  those  sweet,  low  tones,  that  seemed  like  a 

weird  incantation, 
Told  she  the  tale  of  the  fair  Lilinau,  who  was  wooed 

by  a  phantom, 
That,  through  the  ^ines  o'er  her  father's  lodge,  in  the 

hush  of  the  twilight. 
Breathed  like  the  evening  wind,  and  whispered  love 

to  the  maiden, 
Till  she  followed  his  green  and  waving  plume  through 

the  forest,  .         , 

And  nevermore  returned,  nor  was  seen  agam  by  Her 

SilenHSth  wonder  and  strange  surprise,  Evangeline 

listened  .         ,       .„  ^. 

To  the  soft  flow  of  her  magical  words,  till  the  region 

around  her  ,         ,   ,  ^x. 

Seemed  Uke  enchanted  ground,    and  her  swarthy 

guest  the  enchantress. 
Slowly  over  the  tops  of  the  Ozark  Mountains  the 

moon  rose,  . .  ■       ' . 

Lighting  the  little  tent,   and   with    a    mysterious 

Touching  the  sombre  leaves,   and  embracing  and 

filling  the  woodland. 
With  a  ddicious  sound  the  brook  rushed  by,  and  the 

branches 


w?;;^'M^!^'^wgjm^.-!.hiiiiJiiJ!.'Li'Ji. 


SVANOBUNS. 


141 


ssed  from 
into  the 
Uowed  far 
Led  like  a 
vas  wooed 

1I4K 

Ige,  in  the 
pered  love 
le  through 
ain  by  her 
Evangeline 

1160 

the  region 
ir  swarthy 
mtains  the 
mysterious 
racing  and 

.  1155 

by,  and  the 


Swayed  and  sighed  overhead  in    scarcely    audible 

whispers. 
Filled  with  the  thoughts  of  love  was  Evangeline's 

heart,  but  a  secret, 
Subtile  sense  crept  in  of  pain  and  indefinite  terror, 
As  the  cold,  poisonous  snake  creeps  into  the  nest  of 

the  swallow.  "" 

It  was  no  earthly  fear.     A  breath  from  the  region  of 

spirits 
Seemed  to  float  in  the  air  of  night;   and  she  felt  for  a 

moment 
That,  like  the  Indian  maid,  she,  too,  was  pursuing  a 

phantom. 
With  this  thought  she  slept,  and  the  fear  and  the 

phantom  had  vanished. 
Early  upon  the  morrow  the  march  was  resumed,  and 

the  Shawnee  "* 

Said,  as  they  journeyed  along, — "On  the  western 

slope  of  these  mountains 
Dwells  in  his  little  village  the  Black  Robe  chief  of 

the  Mission. 
Mnch  he  teaches  tha  people,  and  tells  them  of  Mary 

and  Jesus ; 
Loud  laugh  their  hearts  with  joy,  and  weep  with  pain, 

as  they  hear  him." 
Then,  with  a  sudden  and  secret  emotion,  Evangeline 

answered, 
"  Let  us  go  to  the  Mission,  for  there  good  tidings 

await  us ! " 
Thither  they  turned  their  steeds ;  and  behind  a  spur 

of  the  mountains. 
Just  as  the  sun  went  down,  they  heard  «.  murmur  of 

voices, 


142 


BVANORLINK: 


And  in  a  meadow  green  and  broad,  by  the  bank  of  a 

r^ver,  .  ,  .      /•  ^.i. 

Saw  the  tents  of  the  Christians,  the  tents  of  the 

Jesuit  Mission. 
Under  a  towering  oak,  that  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 

village,  ,  . 

Knelt  the  Black  Robe  chief  with  his  children.     A 

crucifix  fastened  ,    j       j  u 

High  on  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  overshadowed  by 
grapevines,  ,  .     ^   ,       i 

Looked  with  its  agonized  face  on  the  multitude  kneel- 
ing beneath  it.  ^     ,         ,    .     • 

This  was  their  rural  chapel.     Aloft,  through  the  in- 
tricate arches  . 

Of  its  aerial  roof,  arose  the  chant  of  their  vespers, 

Mingling  its  notes  with  the  soft  susurrus  and  sighs 
of  the  branches. 

Silent,  with  heads  uncovered,  the  travellers,  nearer 
approaching,  

Knelt  on  the  swarded  floor,  and  joined  in  the  evening 

devotions.  ,    ,     ,       j-\" 

But  when  the  service  was  done,  and  the  benediction 

had  fallen 
Forth  from  the  hands  of  the  pnest,  like  seed  from  the 

hands  of  the  sower. 
Slowly  the  reverend  man  advanced  to  the  strangers, 

and  bade  them 
Welcome;   and  when  they  replied,  he  smiled  with 

benignant  expression. 
Hearing  the  homelike  sounds  of  his  mother-tongue 

in  the  forest,  •  .    u- 

And  with  words  of  kindness  conducted  them  into  his 

wi^am. 


Ill 


SVANOBLINS. 


143 


bank  of  a 
Its  of  the 
idst  of  the 
ildren.  A 
adowed  by 
tude  kneel- 
airh  the  in- 

1180 

vespers, 
t  and  sighs 

iers,  nearer 

the  evening 

benediction 

im 

;ed  from  the 
e  strangers, 
imiled  with 
)ther-tongue 
tiem  into  his 


There  upon  mats  and  skins  they  reposed,  and  on 

cakes  of  the  maize-ear 
Feasted,  and  slaked  their  thirst  from  the  water-gourd 

of  the  teacher. 
Soon  was  their  story  told ;  and  the  priest  with  solem- 
nity answered : — 
"Not  six   suns  have  risen  and  set  since  Gabriel, 

seated 
On  this  mat  by  my  side,  where  now  the  maiden  re- 
poses, 
Told  me  the  same  sad  tale ;  then  arose  and  continued 

his  journey  I" 
Soft  was  the  voice  of  the  priest,  and  he  spake  with  an 

accent  of  kindness ; 
But  on  Evangeline's  heart  fell  his  words  as  in  winter 

the  snow-flakes 
Fall  into  some  lone  nest  from  which  the  birds  have 

departed. 
"Far  to  the  north  he  has  gone,"  continued  the  priest  v 

"but  in  autumn,  *"" 

When-  the  chase  is  done,  will  return  again  to  the 

Mission." 
Then  Evangeline  said,  and  her  voice  was  meek  and 

submissive, 
"  Let  me  remain  with  thee,  for  my  soul  is  sad  and 

afflicted." 
So  seemed  it  wise  and  well  unto  all ;  and  betimes  on 

the  morrow. 
Mounting  his  Mexican  steed,  with  his  Indian  guides 

and  companions,  ^^ 

Homeward  Basil  returned,  and  Evangeline  stayed  at 

Uie  Mission, 


MMRI 


Wf'^ 


144 


SVAMGELIMB. 


Slowly,  slowly,  slowly  the  days  succeeded  each 

other, — 
Days  and  weeks  and  months ;  and  the  fields  of  maize 

that  were  springing 
Green  from  the  ground  when  a  stranger  she  came, 

now  waving  about  her, 
Lifted  their  slender  shafts,  with  leaves  interlacing, 

•    <•  •  1210 

and  forming 
Cloisters  for  mendicant  crows  and  granaries  pillaged 

by  squirrels. 
Then  in  the  golden  weather  the  maize  was  husked, 

and  the  maidens 
Blushed  at  each  blood-red  ear,  for  that  betokened  a 

lover, 
But  at  the  crooked  laughed,  and  called  it  a  thief  in 

the  corn-field. 
Even  the  blood-red  ear  to  Evafigeline  brought  not 

her  lover. 
"Patience !"  the  priest  would  say ;  "have  faith,  and 

thy  prayer  will  be  answered  1 
Look  at  this  vigorous  plant  that  lifts  its  head  from 

the  meadow. 
See  how  its  leaves  are  turned  to  the  north,  as  true  as 

the  magnet ; 
This  is  the  compass-flower,  that  the  fingerof  God  has 

planted 
Here  in  the  houseless  wild,  to  direct  the  traveller's 

•  1230 

journey 
Over  the  sea-like,  pathless,  limitless  waste  .of  the 

desert. 
Such  in  the  soul  of  man  is  faith.    The  blossoms  of 

passion, 


Foun 


eeded  each 

Is  of  maize 

she  came, 

interlacing, 

mo 

es  pillaged 
as  husked, 
tetokened  a 
t  a  thief  in 
trought  not 

1216 

;  faith,  and 
i  head  from 
1,  as  true  as 
r  of  God  has 
e  traveller's 

ISSO 

f&ste  .of  the 
blossoms  of 


BVANGBLINS. 


148 


Gay  and  luxuriant  flowers,  are  brighter  and  fuller  of 
fragrance,  ,    ,    • 

But  they  beguile  us,  and  lead  us  astray,  and  their 
odor  is  deadly. 

Only  this  humble  plant  can  guide  us  here,  and  here- 
after 

Crown  us  with  asphodel  flowers,  that  are  wet  with 
the  dews  of  nepenthe." 

So  came  the  autumn,  and  passed,  and  the  winter- 
yet  Gabriel  came  not ; 

Blossomed  the  opening  spring,  and  the  notes  of  the 
robin  and  bluebird 

Sounded  sweet  upon  wold  and  in  wood,  yet  Gabriel 
came  not. 

But  on  the  breath  of  the  summer  winds  a  rumor  was 

wafted 

Sweeter  than  the  song  of  bird,  or  hue  or  odor  of  blos- 
som. 

Far  to  the  north  and  east,  it  is  said,  in  the  Michigan 

forests,  r     *        ey       • 

Gabriel  had  his  lodge  by  the  banks  of  the  Saginaw 

River.  ,      ,    ,  ,        e 

And,  with  returning  guides,  that  sought  the  lakes  of 

St.  Lawrence, 
Saying  a  sad  farewell,  Evangeline  went  from  the 

Mission. 
When    over  weary    ways,  by    long    and    perilous 

marches,  ,,.  , . 

She  had  attained  at  length  the  depths  of  the  Michi- 
gan forests, 

Found  she  the  hunter's  lodge  deserted  and  fallen  to 

ruin! 


I 


.1 


It  ■ 


140 


I(VANGBI.Um. 


Thus  did  the  long  sad  years  glide  on,  and  in  sea- 
sons and  places  . 
Divers  and  distant  far    was    seen   the    wandennj 

maiden; —  ,    ,, 

Now  in  the  Tents  of  Grace  of  the  meek  Moravian 

Missions, 
Now  in  the  noisy  camps  and  the  battle-fields  of  the 

army, 
Now  in  secluded  hamlets,  in  towns  and  populous 

cities. 
Like  a  phantom  she  came,  and  passed  away  unre- 

membered. 
Fair  was  she  and  young,  when  in  hope  began  the 

long  journey; 
Faded  was  she  and  old,  when  in  disappointment  it 

ended. 
Each  succeeding  year  stole  something  away  from  her 

beauty,  ,       ,  j 

Leaving  behind  it,  broader  and  deeper,  the  gloom  and 

the  shadow. 
Then  there  appeared  and  spread  faint  streaks  of  gray 

o'er  her  forehead. 
Dawn  of  another  life,  that  broke  o'er  her  earthy 

horizon,  , 

As  in  the  eastern  sky  the  first  faint  streaks  of  the 

morning. 

TENTH  READING. 

In  that  delightful  land  which  is  washed  by  the 
Delaware's  waters,  * 

Guarding  in  sylvan  shades  the  name  of  Penn  the 
apostle, 


an 
Findini 


8VANGSUNS. 


147 


i  in  sea- 
andering 

1840 

Moravian 
is  of  the 
populous 
ray  unre- 
>egan  the 

1S45 

ntment  it 
'  from  her 
gloom  and 
ks  of  gray 

;r  earthly 

mo 

iks  of  the 


ed  by  the 

» 

Penn  the 


Stands  on  the  banks  of  its  beautiful  stream  the  city 
he  founded.  . 

There  all  the  air  is  balm,  and  the  peach  is  the  em^ 
blem  of  beauty. 

And  the  streets  still  reecho  the  names  of  the  trees  of 

the  forest,  ,     ^       j       i. 

As  if  they  fain  would  appease  the  Dryads  whose 

haunts  they  molested.  ,     j  j 

There  from  the  troubled  sea  had  Evangeline  landed, 

an  exile,  ^  ^  ,  , 

Finding  among  the  children  of  Penn  a  home  and  a 

country.  ,    ,.  ,         ,     •       t 

There  old  Rene  LebUnc  had  died;  and  when  he 

departed,  ^         ^ 

Saw  at  his  side  only  one  of  all  his  hundred  descend- 
Something  at  least  there  was  in  the  friendly  streets 

of  the  city,  ,       j    i. 

Something  tb.    spake  to  her  heart,  and  made  her  no 

longer  ?*         ler;  ' 

And  her  ear    a       eased  with  the  Thee  and  Thou  of 

the  Quakers,  ,      ,^  .     j.  ^        im 

For  it  recalled  the  past,  the  old  Acadian  country, 
Where  all  men  were  equal,  and  all  were  brothers  and 

sisters. 
So,  when  the  fruitless  search,  the  disappointed  en- 
deavor. 
Ended,  to  recommence  no  ipcre  upon  earth,  uncom- 

ThitSer,  as  leaves  to  the  light,  were  turned  her 
thoughts  and  her  footsteps.  ^ 

As  from  a  mountain's  top  the  rainy  mists  of  the 
morning 


148 


BVANGBUNS. 


Roll  away,  and  afar  we  behold  the  landscape  below  us, 
Sun-illumined,  with   shining  rivers   and  cities  and 

hamlets, 
So  fell  the  mists  from  her  mind,  and  she  saw  the 

world  far  below  her, 
Dark  no  longer,  but  all  illumined  with  love ;  and  the 

pathway 
Which  she  had  climbed  so  far,  lying  smooth  and  fair 

in  the  distance. 
Gabriel  was  not  forgotten.     Within  her  heart  was  his 

image. 
Clothed  m  the  beauty  of  love  and  youth,  as  last  she 

beheld  him, 
Only  more  beautiful  made  by  his  deathlike  silence 

and  absence. 
Into  her  thoughts  of  him  time  entered  not,  for  it  was 

not. 
Over  him  years  had  no  power;  he  was  not  changed, 

but  transfigured ;  . 

He  had  become  to  her  heart  as  one  who  is  dead,  and 

not  absent; 
Patience  and  abnegation  of  self,  and  devotion  to  others. 
This  was  the  lesson  a  life  of  trial  and  sorrow  had 

taught  her. 
So  was  her  love  dififused,  but,  like  to  some  odorous 

spices, 
Su£fered  no  waste  nor  loss,  though  filling  the  air  with 

1886 

aroma. 

Other  hope  had  she  none,  nor  wish  in  life,  but  to  fol- 
low, 

Meekly  with  reverent  steps,  the  sacred  feet  of  her 

Saviour. 


below  us, 
ities  and 

;  saw  the 

;  aud  the 

li  and  fair 

1875 

rt  was  his 
s  last  she 
Ice  -silence 
for  it  was 
:  changed, 

1880 

dead,  and 

L  to  others, 
orrow  had 

le  odorous 

be  air  with 

1886 

but  to  fol- 
eet  of  her 


BVANGBLINB. 


149 


Thus  many  years  she  lived  as  a  Sister  of  Mercy; 

frequenting 
Lonely  and  wretched  roofs  in  the  crowded  lanes  of 

the  city. 
Where  distress  and  want  concealed  themselves  from 

the  sunlight,  '*" 

Where  disease   and  sorrow  in  garrets  languished 

neglected. 
Night  ttfter  night  when  the  world  was  asleep,  as  the 

watchman  repeated 
Loud,  through  the  gusty  streets,  that  all  was  well  in 

the  city. 
High  at  some  lonely  window  he  saw  the  light  of  her 

taper. 
Day  after  day,  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  as  slow 

through  the  suburbs  '** 

Plodded  the  German  farmer,  with  flowers  and  fruits 

for  the  market, 
Met  he  that  meek,  pale  face,  returning  home  from  its 

watchings. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  that  a  pestilence  fell  on  the 
city. 

Presaged  by  wondrous  signs,  and  mostly  by  flocks  of 
wild  pigeons. 

Darkening  the  sun  in  their  flight,  with  naught  in 
their  craws  but  an  acorn.  '*" 

And,  as  the  tides  of  the  sea  arise  in  the  month  of 
September, 

Flooding  some  silver  stream,  till  it  spreads  to  a  lake 
in  the  meadow, 

So  death  flooded  life,  and,  o'erflowing  its  natural  mar- 
gin, 


.,ii»,aM^mK»adbefiaitiumKM\T0mataM8lHliiff(S^ 


m 


EVANOaUNA. 


Spread  to  a  brackish  lake  the  silver  stream  .of  exist- 

ence.  ,  , 

Wealth  had  no  power  to  bribe,  nor  beauty  to  charmj 

the  oppressor; 
But  all  perished  alike  beneath  the  scourge  of  his 

anfifer*""" 
Only,  alas!  the  poor,  who  had  neither  friends  nor 

attendants,  -  , 

Crept  away  to  die  in  the  almshouse,  home  of  the 

homeless.  .,       .         , 

Then  in  the  suburbs  it  stood,  in  the  midst  of  meadows 

and  woodlands; — 
Now  the  ci^y  surrounds  it;  but  still,  with  its  gateway^ 

and  wicket 
Meek,  in  the  midst  of  splendor,  its  humble  walls 

seem  to  echo 

Softly  the  words  of  the  Lord:— "The  poor  ye  always 
have  with  you." 

Thither,  by  night  and  by  day,  came  the  Sister  of 
Mercy.    The  dying 

Looked  up  into  her  face,  and  thought,  indeed,  to  be- 
hold there  ^     ^       ,     ,.     J      vt. 

Gleams  of  celestial  light  encircle  her  forehead  with 

splendor. 
Such  as  the  artist  paints  o'er  the  brows  of  saints  and 

apdstles,  .  ^    j-  *. 

Or  such  BS  hangs  by  night  o'er  a  city  seen  at  a  dist- 
ance. ^  *.  ,      •.       1 

Unto  their  eyes  it  seemed  the  lamps  of  the  city  celes- 

Into  ihose  shining  gates  erelong  their  spirits  would 
enter. 


Thus 

ser 
Wendit 

ak 
Sweet  c 

th< 
And  si 

an 
Thattl 

Then, 

co< 
Distant 

be 
While, 

w< 
Sounds 

th 
Soft  as 

h( 
Sometl 

ex 
And,  \ 

ht 
Noisel 

ai 
Moistc 

ix 
Closin 


of  exist- 
;o  charm, 

1805 

e  of  his 
ends  nor 
me  of  the 
'  meadows 
5  gateway 
Lble  walls 
^e  always 

Sister  of 
ied,  to  be- 
head with 
saints  and 
sn  at  a  dist- 

city  celes- 
Irits  would 


BVAMOBtlNA. 


151 


Thus,  on  a  Sabbath  mom,  through  the  streets,  de- 
serted and  silent, 
Wending  her  quiet  way,  she  entered  the  door  of  the 

almshouse. 
Sweet  on  the  summer  air  was  Uie  odor  of  flowers  in 

the  garden. 
And  she  paused  on  her  way  to  gather  the  fairest 

among  them,  ^      ,    .    r 

That  the  dying  once  more  might  rejoice  in  their  fra- 
grance and  beauty.  .' 
Then,  as  she  mounted  the  stairs  to  the  comdofs, 

cooled  by  the  east  wind, 
Distant  and  soft  on  her  ear  fell  the  chimes  from  the 

belfry  of  Christ  Church, 
While,  intermingled  with  these,  across  the  meadows 

were  wafted  «     j      • 

Sounds  of  psalms,  that  were  sung  "by  the  Swedes  m 

their  church  at  Wicaco. 
Soft  as  descending  wings  fell  the  calm  of  the  hour  on 

her  spirit;  .     ' 

Something  within  her  said,  "At  length  thy  trials  are 
ended;"  ,    '~ 

And,  with  light  in  her  looks,  she  entered  the  cham- 
bers of  sickness. 
Noiselessly  moved  about  the  assiduous,  careful  attend- 
ants. 
Moistening  the  feverish  lip,  and  the  aching  brow,  and 

in  silence 
Closing  the  sightless  eyes  of  the  dead,  and  concealing 

their  faces. 
Where  on  their  pallets  they  lay,  like  drifts  of  snow 

by  the  roads;de. 
Many  a  languid  head,  upraised  as  Evangeline  entered, 


152 


EVANOEUKR. 


Turned  on  its  pillow  of  pain  to  gaze  while  she  passed, 

for  her  presence 
Fell  on  their  hearts  like  a  ray  of  the  sun  on  the  walls 

of  a  prison. 
And,  as  she  looked  around,  she  saw  how  Death  the 

consoler,  ,    j  i.    i  j    .. 

Laying  his  hand  upon  many  a  heart,  had  healed  U 

forever. 
Many  familiar  forms  had  disappeared  in  the  night 

time;  ,  ,      ,    , 

Vacant  their  places  were,  or  filled  already  by  strangers. 

Suddenly,  as  if  arrested,  by  fear  or  a  feeling  of 

wonder,  ,       ,.  .i 

Still  she  stood,  with  her  colorless  lips  apart,  while  a 

shudder 

Ran  through  her  frame,  and,  forgotten,  the  flowerets 
dropped  from  her  fingers. 

And.  from  her  eyes  and  cheeks  the  light  and  bloom 
of  the  morning. 

Then  there  escaped  from  her  lips  a  cry  of  such  terri- 
ble anguish. 

That  the  dying  heard  it,  and  started  up  from  their 

pillows.  ,    ,   ,     f  f 

On  the  pallet  before  her  was  stretched  the  form  of  an 

old  man.  ,    ,    ,      ,       i.  j  j 

Long,  and  thin,  and  gray  were  the  locks  that  shaded 

his  temples; 
But,  as  he  lay  in  the  morning  light,  his  face  for  a 

moment  . 

Seemed  to  assume  once  more  the  forms  of  its  earlier 

manhood; 


spi 
That  tl 

pai 
Motion: 


% 


e  passed, 
the  walls 
eath  the 
healed  it 

1S40 

;he  night 
trangers. 
eeling  of 
t,  while  a 
flowerets 

1845 

3d  bloom 
uch  terri- 
rom  their 
brra  of  an 
at  shaded 

13B0 

face  for  a 
its  earlier 


I 


BVANOBLINB. 


153 


^  are  wont  to  be  changed  the  faces  of  those  who  are 

dying. 
Hot  and  red  on  his  lips  still  burned  the  flush  of  the 

fever, 
As  if  life,  like   the  Hebrew,  with  blood  had  be- 
sprinkled its  port.:ls,  "* 
That  the  Angel  of  Death  might  see  the  sign,  and 

pass  over. 
Motionless,  senseless,  dying,  he  lay,  and  his  spirit 

exhausted 
Seemed  to  be  sinking  down  through  inflnite  depths  in 

the  darkness, 
Darkness  of  slumt-er  and  death,;  forever  sinking  and 

sinking. 
Then  through  those  realms  of  shade,  in  multiplied 

reverberations,  **" 

Heard  he  that  cry  of  pf in,  and  through  the  hush  that 

succeeded 
Whispered  a  gentle  voice,  in  accents  tender  and  saint- 
like, 
"Gabriel!  O  my  belovedl"  and  died  away  into  silence. 
Then  he  beheld,  in  a  dream,  once  more  the  home  of 

his  childhood; 
Green  Acadian  meadows,  with  sylvan  rivers  among 

them,  "* 

Village,  and  mountain,  and  woodlands;  and,  walking 

under  their  shadow. 
As  in  the  days  of  her  youths  Evangeline  rose  in  his 

[vision. 
Tears  came  into  his  eyes;  and  as  slowly  he  lifted  his 
eyelids, 
Vanished  the  vision  away,  but  Evangeline  knelt  by 
his  bedside. 


T 


184 


WAKOKUNS. 


Vainly  he  strove  to  whisper  her  name,  for  the  accente 

unuttered  ,  ••     t.  .  t.- 

Died  on  his  lips,  and  their  motion  revealed  what  his 

tongue  would  have  spoken. 
Vainly  he  strove  to  rise;  and   Evangeline,  kneeling 

beside  him,  .  ,      ,      .      * 

Kissed  his  dying  lips,  and  laid  his  head  on  her  bosom. 
Sweet  was  the  light  of  his  eyes;  but  it  suddenly  sank 

into  darkness,  r     •  j    *. 

As  when  a  lamp  is  blown  out  by  a  gust  of  wind  at^^ 

casement. 

All  was  ended  now,  the  hope,  and  the  fear,  and  the 

All  the  aching  of  heart,  the  restless,    unsatisfied 

longing,  ,  •  t-     r 

AH  the  dull,  deep  pain,  and  constant  anguish  ot 

And,^as  she  pressed  once  more  the  lifeless  head  to  her 

Meekly  she  bowed  her  own,  and  murmured,  "Father^ 
I  thank  theel" 

Still  stands  the  forest  primeval;  but  far  away  from 
its  shadow, 
Side  by  side,  in  their  nameless  graves,  the  lovers  are 

Under*Se°humble  walls  of  the  little  Catholic  church- 
In  tlfe^eart  of  the  city,  they  lie,  unknown  and  un- 

Daily  ^e  tides  of  life  go  ebbing  and  flowing  besi^ 
them, 


1 


SVANOBLINB. 


198 


le  accents 

isro 

what  his 

kneeling 

r  bosom. 
:n1y  sank 

wrind  at  a 

1375 

,r,  and  the 
insatisfied 
nguish  of 
lead  to  her 
I,  "Father, 

1880 

away  from 
lovers  are 
ilic  church- 
n  and  un- 
ing  beside 


Thousands  of  throbbing  hearts,  where  theirs  are  at 

rest  and  forever, 
Thousands  of  aching  brains,  where  theirs   no  longer 

are  busy, 
Thousands  of  toiling  hands,  where  theirs  have  ceased 

from  their  labors, 
Thousands  of  weary  feet,  where  theirs  have  completed 

their  journey! 

Still  stands  the  forest  primeval;  but  under  the 
shade  of  its  branches  ""* 

Dwells  another  race,  with  other  customs  and 
language. 

Only  along  the  shore  of  the  mournful  and  misty 
Atlantic 

Linger  a  few  Acadian  peasants,  whose  fathers  from 
exile 

Wandered  back  to  their  native  land  to  die  in  its 
bosom. 

In  the  fisherman's  cot  the  wheel  and  the  loom  are 
still  busy;  *"" 

Maidens  still  wear  their  Norman  caps  and  their 
kirtles  of  homespun, 

And  by  the  evening  nre  repeat  Evangeline's  story, 

While  from  its  rocky  caverns  the  deep-voiced,  neigh- 
boring ocean 

Speaks,  and  in  accents  disconsolate  answers  the  wail 
of  the  forest. 


Yo 
Ml 

Whe 
find 
■ons 
thel 

Th 
th« 

bow 
tura 
in  cc 
.  educ 
ofm 

each 
lesK) 

Th« 

worl 
sket 
fori 

'\    ter  t 
have 

-'  speci 


•nd  I 


•laoll 
ever  a 


The  Plan  Books. 


FOR  PRIHARV  AND  INTERMEDIATB  QRADBS. 


T»n  Quid—  or  Seto  of  Plans.  One  for  <ach  month 
In  the  school  y  r.  Nothing  to  compare  with  them 
ever  issued.  A  favorite  with  progreggive  teachera 
In  all  parts  of  the  country. 


Your  ^Vork  ^°  •chool  work  can  be  well  done  tW  ii  not 

Mfia*  Ka  DlannA#l  *••' ?'""»«'•  What  to  plan  and  how  to  pUn 
inUSl  Dv  fianneQ  are  problems  every  teacher  ia  now  working  ont. 
What  material  to  uae  for  the  different  seasunH  of  the  year  and  where  to 
find  this  material,  are  questions  all  are  asking.  How  to  correlate  these  les- 
sons and  find  suggestions  which  will  enable  teachers  to  use  this  material  to 
the  best  advantage  when  found,  all  wish  to  know. 

The  Purpose  of  They  aim,  an  far  as  possible,  to  supply  the 
fWa  Plan  RnnL-a  teacher'n  needs  in  this  direction;  to  assist  the 
uiv  r-iaii  DUUKS  teacher  in  making  out  her  daily  plans;  to  show 
how  school  work  may  be  correlated;  to  enable  her,  from  its  references,  to 
turn  at  once  to  the  needed  book  for  the  appropriate  song  or  story  to  be  ised 
in  connection  with  the  day's  lessons;  to  provide  seat  work  which  will  1  of 
educational  value,  and  to  save  money  spent  by  the  teacher  in  the  puri.  lase 
of  many  books  for  the  sake  of  a  very  little  which  may  be  used  in  school  work. 
The  Pl^N  Book  has  been  isHued  in  ten  numbers  or  volumes,  one  for 
each  month  of  the  school  year,  bringing  to  hand  the  material  for  each  day's 
lessons  and  plans. 

Ths>  f^nnf  Anfe  consists  of  science  or  natnre  lessons,  Mack- 

I  nc  uonKniS  board  reading  lessons,  drawing  lessons,  seat 

work,  related  songs,  poems,  stories  and  gems  for  literature  work, 
sketches  of  authors,  studies  of  children  of  other  lands,  and  programmes 
for  specisi  days  or  nationalJiolldays. 

Bach  number  baa  112  large  pages,  and  is  the  best,  most  practical  mat- 
ter to  be  had  for  the  money.  Issues  such  as  December  and  February 
have  several  half-tone  engravings.  Each  issue  has  many  good  pictiues  sod 
special  songs. 

PRICE  FOR  ANY  MONTH,  28  CENTS. 
THE  10  MONTHS.  SEPTEMBER  TO  JUNE.  INCLUSIVE.  $2.00. 

AUTUMN— September,  October,  November, 
336  pages,  flexible  cloth.  |1.00.  WINTER— 
December,  January,  February.  336  pages,  |1.00.  SPRINO— March,  April, 
May,  June,  448  pages,  $1.00.  The  three  volumes  for  '|2.50.  Total  set  con- 
tains 1,120  pages. 

Send  for  a  copy  and  you  will  want  all  of  them. 


Bound  Volumes 


Cbicaoo,  January  lo,  189S. 
afy  Onr  Sir.— 1  have  received  the  Janu- 
••17  Plan  Book,  it  it  in  keeping  with 
the  others.  I  most  cordially  approve  of  it, 
•nd  shall  t^ke  the  first  opportunity  to 
recommend  it  to  my  teachers.  I  may  say 
•ISO  it  is  the  first  thtuf  of  the  kind  I  hsvc 
ever  seen  which  I  can  fully  approve.  Yours 
very  truly,  OayiLLB  T.  Skiort, 

Co.  Sup*.,  Cook  Co.,  lU. 

\.  PLANAQAN.    . 


Marsraix,  Mich. 
Our  teachi;ri  are  enthusiastic  iq  praiic  of 
the  Plan  Books.  Quite  a  number  have  a 
full  set,  and  the  general  exprCMion  is,  "The 
best  thing  out.'*^  You  deserve  the  tiuwks 
not  only  of  the-«rlmary  tcacht .  ^•'•  of  «ll 
teachers,  for  publishing  these  h'f-/1t.i. 
B.  P.  I.0Hm, 

Supt.  ot'  <icuool». 


267, WABASH  AV6NUB,  CHKJAaO.  lU* 


LJJh£4dij*Jj>    . 


THE  STORt  aF  LAFAYETTE. 

VOR  I1ITBB^1>IATB  OBADSS. 


f  Mt  RMon  The  fint  real  attempt  %o  give  the  history  of  thi.  """^W* 
nanSShi, achie4nenu  in  rtory  form,  miited  to  the  t«te  a«d .bUity  of 
pupils  of  the  third  and  fourth  grades. 
r%»  tktOM  a  The  author  is  a  teacher  of  Wi4«  wtperience,  thorough  schol- 
SLST^  *  «Aira«d  litemrj.  ability,  who  h«l  brought  idl  these  de, 
*^  to  bear  in  the  writing  of  the  most  succe«f  «1  Wographicl  story  yet 

published. 
TMffMt  HI  The  widespread  iuterestin  Lafayette  at  this  time  tak«  ta, 

SSSdl  coniectlon  with  the  intern*  patriotic  feeling  «c«.tly  aw*^ 

^S'wiU  give  wisedirection  to  much  of  that  feeling,  afld  make  plam  to 

X>SSe  awful  price  of  our  liberties,  a.  well «  *«-«» S*«^SS 
^^Vgh  motives,  noble  chararter  and  pure  petnotum,  ^^ 

and  stllj  contribute  toward  the  principal  of  Uberty. 

tMiiM  ini      The  «thor  has  told  a  truthfid  story  In  a  Oar^it^  way. 

SSSirfil"  embodyfug  the  fruit  of  extensive  reading  and  w*^**  » 

*2SSform.    The  Wstoric  facts  are  absolutely  reliablej  and  the  story 

■^t^SSng  ian  fiction,  while  the  Uterary.  finish  is  all  that  could 

^f^^^fZ  muLtions  U  fine  and  add  to  t^ 

i^wery  way 


liivttictkc 


In  fi«*.  Ufayette  the  man.  Jiafayette-^  warrior,  are  the 
aame  afi  I^ayette.  the  heroic  and  dil«*'~ ^'^''-fjf,*^ 
^leis  Washington,    ^ttte  story  is  timely.  imter,sH^f,intis^g,  w«ll-told 
Sw^tsdapted  tot»e  asa  supptementwy  readerorlibtary  book. 

9MMt  il  ttM.    It  contafais  the  fioems  spokeaby  the  children  of  Nepr  York, 
SSL  sSr'     M^aSusetU  MTconnecticut  in  1824.  when  Lafiyette  t». 
^'^^^LJ^^^^'^^  ^  ««y  origim.1  dotumenta,  «^  ^ 
^^Sr^..'-*i-g  it  a  mme  of  info«ution  «da  l^^^', 
^io  th*  teache.  and  pupU.    All  tbisn»tfrial  is  so  deftly  woven  lnt» 
th«  story  as  to  mske  the  past  seem  present. 

■^m::.^1^.      ,  -jjg  educational  value  of  Uiis  remarkable  book  is  hey8«4 
iS^        computation,  and  it  wUl  do  much  to  make  ta^ny  f^J^ 
rij^yettee  who  will  fight  th*  great  batUes  for  human  Uber^  w  toe  tweH^ 
tieth  century.  ^  -A-i  •       ^ 


H.  Fb^lHAG^N* 


<it1fjG^II0d 


mftrkable 
abUityof 

igh  schol- 
tbese  d«> 
gtpry  yet 

!  faken  in 
itly  itm^- 

liow  much 
»fitritMit«d 


»if^  way. 
Mich  ia  % 
L  tlie  story 
tivat  could 
if  the  book 


yt,  are  the 
lend  of  the 
g,  wftU^old 

NewYtak, 
af tiyette  iae* 
itt«,attch«a 
j^t  tiiae- 
woveniato 

t.  iabeyoaid 
y  Americaa 
1  the  tweii,'^ 


CAQO 


f 


